I’ve had my tattoo for about a month now.
The first thing that struck me about being tattooed is that tattoos sit on a throne of lies: it didn’t hurt. It definitely has a lot to do with the fact that I got it on my wrist (as well as the fact that I have a decently high pain tolerance), but the most prevalent sensation of the whole process was the buzzing from the gun.
I also really hate needles, though. So I kind of expected for it to be a somewhat traumatic experience.
What I didn’t expect, however, other than the surprising lack of pain, was the effect that some ink in a 1″ by 2″ area of my body could would bolster what once was a peskily low sense of self-worth.
Not only do the aliens believe in me, but I am a piece of art.
And it only cost $50 for me to have this forever.