janananicole

My first tattoo was freshman year of college. Really simple, really small, just black, my first and middle name in cursive. It took 15 minutes. Then I added on. Then I got another... and another, and after getting my 4th (or 5th, however you count) I started to wonder: I was obviously obsessed, but why? Was it the anticipation, the process of choosing, drawing, and deciding when and where to get it? Or the actual tattooing, the feeling of tiny needles sticking into your skin over and over again for an extended period of time? Or was it the end product?

I guess it could be different for everyone, but for me the magic happens in the tattoo parlor. To sit in the chair, about to make a permanent decision, to decorate your body with art that you chose, exactly how you wanted it, the control that you have over your own body for those few hours, or however long it takes. That's the only control that I crave, the only control that I need. I will give my whole being to someone, but the tattoos that I have are mine and mine alone. The adrenaline rush, which isn't really a rush at all. To have your heart pumping fast and the pain dulled from your adrenaline, that kicks in right as the first needle goes in, and stays until you're almost done. My longest tattoo took three and a half hours and the adrenaline lasted all of that time except the last 15 minutes, because I knew I was almost done and started to relax. I love the pain. Getting a tattoo is orgasmic

The first tattoo that one gets is almost a right of passage into a world of body modification, the thinking that an untainted body is a blank canvas, waiting to be drawn on and decorated. I take pride in my piercings and tattoos. They are my way of expressing myself about the things that are important to me. Every tattoo that I have represents something irreplacable in my life, so that even if my life changes, and I walk down a different path, I will always remember where I've been and the people that helped me get there.