My Whole Expanse I Cannot See…

Lately, it may or may not be obvious, I’ve been pretty down. It’s probably the longest I’ve ever been this dark, and though the rational part of me still exists, I just can’t make it stop. The rational me isn’t loud enough, the poor fellow’s nailed to a cross in a field of poppies, being taunted by a creepy girl. He’s been locked inside a Heart Shaped Box.

Thinking along these lines, I went today for my twelfth tattoo.

Not every tattoo is an etching of hope, but they all mark something significant for me. So, no matter how bad I feel right now, whether or not it stops, it’s very real, and noted.

So, yesterday I was listening to music and trying to figure out something fun to do with my evening. Tattoos are always fun, and I’d been thinking about a song lyrics tattoo for awhile. Music’s kind of personal to me, I feel like what I listen to tells a lot about me. I’m really particular about what goes on my playlists. I mean, I “like” lots of music, I know the words to everything from The Beatles to John Prine, but everything I listen to on my own is very specific. At any rate, while I was listening to my “Anger and Depression are Fun” playlist, one of my absolute favorite Nirvana songs started playing. I heard the line I wanted etched into my skin.

“And if you cut yourself, you will think you’re happy”

It’s a line from Sappy, such brilliant song. It’s totally open to interpretation, but at its core, I think it’s a song about sacrifice. How we hurt ourselves to make others happy, thinking that we’ll then be happy too. I’m inclined to think the song’s specifically about God, but again, it’s totally open. That sort of constant sacrifice is exhausting, and in the end, you’re really not happy, a fact that I often forget. Hence the tattoo.

My regular tattoo shop was closed, they close super early on Sundays, so I ended up going to where I got my very first tattoo, Phat Katz. It was a pretty spectacular evening, pouring rain, definitely not vent/trache weather. The shop’s layout had changed since my visit almost four years ago, so to get my tattoo, the two artists had to carry me and the chair up two flights of stairs.

The experience was definitely worth the effort. I got to see a girl completely punk out mid-tattoo, and another girl with a wickedly swollen lip piercing that needed yanked. I always find it a little amusing when I’m the toughest person in a room.

So, I finally got my tenth tattoo. It’s actually an idea I got while I was in the hospital last week, not the idea I had before the hospital. While I was in, a friend drew me a little flower on a post-it note that said, “Get well now!” It cheered me up, and I liked the writing. I did feel better. I want to keep being better. I’m not always so great, and it might be a cheap gimmick, but the tattoos remind me of things I forget.

It’s a little bloody just now, I’ll post a fresher picture tomorrow.

Yesterday I got my ninth and most ambitious tattoo. It’s the most ambitious because unlike the other eight, I cannot really hide it. The others are on my arms and legs, two on my torso, all easily hidden by clothes. This new one, this one I cannot easily hide. It’s on the top of my right hand, a big red poppy.

I got it for a few reasons, I’ve definitely wanted it for awhile. The main idea being, I really like opiates, I used to like them far too much. I completely understand why people pick them up and never put them down. In many ways they’re beautiful, they help you feel absolutely fucking perfect no matter how astonishingly bad reality gets. I don’t care what anybody says, sometimes you need that feeling of safety, that peace. When the entire world goes dark, a little light helps. Back when I was really sick and really terrified, really alone, when everything I ever feared happened all at once, opiates were like a nice warm blanket, a kiss from Sara, a hug from God. I don’t at all regret or apologize for taking that comfort. Try living that nightmare and tell me I did the wrong thing. However, after some time, you have to stop hiding and face the darkness. Eventually, that thing that is so beautiful will hurt you.

This tattoo, a tattoo I cannot easily hide, is beautiful, but after not too long it definitely hurt me.

Last night Sara and I went out for desert and a new tattoo. Sara drew it for me, a little piece of her artwork is now on my stomach. It’s quite beautiful…

Thanks to Ed Powell at The Blue Devil for his outstanding work.