My Addiciton to Ink

I got "inked" for the first time when i was sixteen. For the past two years i had driven my mum insane, saying i wanted a tattoo. My mum finally caved in and for my sixteenth birthday she paid for my first tattoo. She didn't trust to go to a tattoo parlour, she said it was dirty and i could get infected and die ( my mother the dramatic ). So we settled on this beautician who also did tattoos. My mum liked this because the beautician said she was using vanishing ink and and that after two years it would fade away ( three years later i still have that tattoo).

Two years later for my eightteenth birthday i wanted another one and my mum agreed. This time my grandmother paid for it (a bit controversial don't you think?). And this time we went to a proper tattoo parlour "Easy Rider", very clean very professional, i think my mum was surprised.

Nearly a year later now, and i want more. Maybe i enjoy the pain, maybe i love that first sting when the needle pierces my skin, whatever it is I'm becoming a tattoo junkie. This is art and it's a way of expressing what i feel, what's happening to me inside and that point in time. I'm hooked and i love it.