on a flight to hong-kong, i drafted the beginnings of a treatise on tattoos, and why i probably won’t get any. the following is largely pulled right out of burton, with minor revisions here and there.

i have a fundamental problem with tattoos. j* and c* [names removed to protect the innocent] have several between the two of them, and during our flight’s delay, they both enjoyed having all eyes on them as they showed them off. though i had considered getting inked in the past, i believe i have decided against it. here’s why, in two long-winded reasons:

1. unless placed in the most inconspicuous of places, a tattoo is a decoration meant to send a message to or evoke the reactions of others. in my observation, the people that love to show off their tattoos lean towards having other forms of attention-seeking behavior – leading a conversation to be largely about themselves, thriving in the spotlight of social situations, etc. this is behavior that i personally have been making efforts to stray from. yes, there are people that have tatts that nobody sees, either because of its location or simply because they choose not to flaunt them. these, i believe are the people that do it truly for themselves. but if you ink up your arm or chest, you’re probably banking on people seeing them, and looking forward to the attention you are bound to receive. again, i have no gripe with such people and i’m certainly not trying to be jugdmental. but as i mentioned, that kind of behavior is not the kind that i feel comfortable with.

2. when i was considering a tattoo, i was so torn on exactly what design i would get, its location, etc. believing a tatt represents a conscious decision to inscibe on one’s body something that embodies permanence, my ultimate choice would have to be something that i believed with unwavering doubt. in my recent struggles with self-identity and crises of faith, i am continually seeing that such a symbol probably does not exist. i have not been made aware of any one thing that i will always believe unconditionally for the rest of my life. there’s always that chance that certain events will change my mind about someone, some feeling, some entity that i may have once felt a strong connection to.

my critics may say, “well, you could always have it removed…duh.” yes, that painful process is always on the table. but it’s kind of a copout. if i were to enter into such an extreme commitment conscious of the very possibility that my mind will change, it would compromise the integrity of said commitment, thus dooming it for failure right from the start. kind of like signing a pre-nup. some may call it “covering all their bases”, and i understand that. but from my point of view, merely having such options would probably make me less likely to acknowledge the severity of my decision, and tempt me to run for the hills at the first sign of doubt or regret. thus, compromising the integrity of the commitment.

i can’t stress enough that i’m not picking on people with tattoos (or pre-nups, for that matter). these are generalizations, and i was a tad moody when i penned this entry (14 hours on a plane will do that to you). believe it or not, i admire those that believe strongly enough in something that they will inscribe it permenantly on their bodies. but it’s just not for me. i have enough markings on me that i didn’t ask for, which have their own sad story behind them. maybe i’ll tell you some time.