I can see now how one can get addicted.
This is a place where one is never old, never fat. No pimples, wrinkles, scars. It’s not skin anymore.
This is a place of a different entity, identity, reality, life. A better me. A different me. Not a human me, with no human limits.
Somewhere where I am in control regardless of biological processes, time, possibilities.
Somewhere where I received assistance, care, where someone was very close to me. Someone wanted to get something right, someone created something with balance and meaning for me, ON me.
A place that I am free, completely free to dedicate to someone else. No cells can tell me they want him gone.
A place with no questions. It can’t be changed, corrected, denied, given away, rejected. It is therefore it is accepted. From its permanency arises the love for it.
A place that means the same with all of us. “I am in love with it.” we say. I do too. I am in love with it.
This is a sign on my body that didn’t just happen. It’s not a medical scar where something dangerous was averted, not a mark where something was tested, not a line where I injured myself to hide my shame (of a pimple), not a spot where my broken skull healed by itself. This is a sign on my body that I wanted, that is planned, desired, created, cared for, emerges from health, beautiful. One place where my skin wasn’t raped but gave itself with love.
I have a tattoo now.