sbhikes

Nobody in the world cares about my tattoos. But I really like them.
I've got a bird friend on my shoulder who will be with me always. Poor little Squeaky, the real bird, died when I was away. I never got to say good-bye and now I don't have to because Squeaky is always there on my shoulder.
I've got a story of hiking a long trail on my leg. If I ever get Alzheimer's I will probably at least remember that experience since it's right there on my leg to remind me of all that I saw and did out there.
I've got big blue roses. Lots of color. I was hated and criticized mercilessly all my life for being ugly but now I have pretty colors on my skin to make me happy.
And finally, my butterfly. First time I went to a tattoo shop the artist there told me of giving an old lady a tattoo of a butterfly on her arm because she had always wanted one. There are so many things in life I've always wanted to do and it took me a while to realize that someday never comes. Do it now. And even though a barely-graduated apprentice did my butterfly, he cleverly mirrored the motif of the leaves of my roses and tied it all together. I feel like I carry a flower garden and a little bit of spring around with me wherever I go.
I claimed my body from those who had prior claims, defined it my own way, not theirs, and made it my own. Nobody cares about my tattoos, some people probably scorn me for them, and for that I even feel more grateful because against their disapproval, here I am, taking up space with my garden and my memories, just being me.

Nobody in the world cares about my tattoos. But I really like them.
I've got a bird friend on my shoulder who will be with me always. Poor little Squeaky, the real bird, died when I was away. I never got to say good-bye and now I don't have to because Squeaky is always there on my shoulder.
I've got a story of hiking a long trail on my leg. If I ever get Alzheimer's I will probably at least remember that experience since it's right there on my leg to remind me of all that I saw and did out there.
I've got big blue roses. Lots of color. I was hated and criticized mercilessly all my life for being ugly but now I have pretty colors on my skin to make me happy.
And finally, my butterfly. First time I went to a tattoo shop the artist there told me of giving an old lady a tattoo of a butterfly on her arm because she had always wanted one. There are so many things in life I've always wanted to do and it took me a while to realize that someday never comes. Do it now. And even though a barely-graduated apprentice did my butterfly, he cleverly mirrored the motif of the leaves of my roses and tied it all together. I feel like I carry a flower garden and a little bit of spring around with me wherever I go.
I claimed my body from those who had prior claims, defined it my own way, not theirs, and made it my own. Nobody cares about my tattoos, some people probably scorn me for them, and for that I even feel more grateful because against their disapproval, here I am, taking up space with my garden and my memories, just being me.

Nobody in the world cares about my tattoos. But I really like them.
I've got a bird friend on my shoulder who will be with me always. Poor little Squeaky, the real bird, died when I was away. I never got to say good-bye and now I don't have to because Squeaky is always there on my shoulder.
I've got a story of hiking a long trail on my leg. If I ever get Alzheimer's I will probably at least remember that experience since it's right there on my leg to remind me of all that I saw and did out there.
I've got big blue roses. Lots of color. I was hated and criticized mercilessly all my life for being ugly but now I have pretty colors on my skin to make me happy.
And finally, my butterfly. First time I went to a tattoo shop the artist there told me of giving an old lady a tattoo of a butterfly on her arm because she had always wanted one. There are so many things in life I've always wanted to do and it took me a while to realize that someday never comes. Do it now. And even though a barely-graduated apprentice did my butterfly, he cleverly mirrored the motif of the leaves of my roses and tied it all together. I feel like I carry a flower garden and a little bit of spring around with me wherever I go.
I claimed my body from those who had prior claims, defined it my own way, not theirs, and made it my own. Nobody cares about my tattoos, some people probably scorn me for them, and for that I even feel more grateful because against their disapproval, here I am, taking up space with my garden and my memories, just being me.

Nobody in the world cares about my tattoos. But I really like them.
I've got a bird friend on my shoulder who will be with me always. Poor little Squeaky, the real bird, died when I was away. I never got to say good-bye and now I don't have to because Squeaky is always there on my shoulder.
I've got a story of hiking a long trail on my leg. If I ever get Alzheimer's I will probably at least remember that experience since it's right there on my leg to remind me of all that I saw and did out there.
I've got big blue roses. Lots of color. I was hated and criticized mercilessly all my life for being ugly but now I have pretty colors on my skin to make me happy.
And finally, my butterfly. First time I went to a tattoo shop the artist there told me of giving an old lady a tattoo of a butterfly on her arm because she had always wanted one. There are so many things in life I've always wanted to do and it took me a while to realize that someday never comes. Do it now. And even though a barely-graduated apprentice did my butterfly, he cleverly mirrored the motif of the leaves of my roses and tied it all together. I feel like I carry a flower garden and a little bit of spring around with me wherever I go.
I claimed my body from those who had prior claims, defined it my own way, not theirs, and made it my own. Nobody cares about my tattoos, some people probably scorn me for them, and for that I even feel more grateful because against their disapproval, here I am, taking up space with my garden and my memories, just being me.

Nobody in the world cares about my tattoos. But I really like them.
I've got a bird friend on my shoulder who will be with me always. Poor little Squeaky, the real bird, died when I was away. I never got to say good-bye and now I don't have to because Squeaky is always there on my shoulder.
I've got a story of hiking a long trail on my leg. If I ever get Alzheimer's I will probably at least remember that experience since it's right there on my leg to remind me of all that I saw and did out there.
I've got big blue roses. Lots of color. I was hated and criticized mercilessly all my life for being ugly but now I have pretty colors on my skin to make me happy.
And finally, my butterfly. First time I went to a tattoo shop the artist there told me of giving an old lady a tattoo of a butterfly on her arm because she had always wanted one. There are so many things in life I've always wanted to do and it took me a while to realize that someday never comes. Do it now. And even though a barely-graduated apprentice did my butterfly, he cleverly mirrored the motif of the leaves of my roses and tied it all together. I feel like I carry a flower garden and a little bit of spring around with me wherever I go.
I claimed my body from those who had prior claims, defined it my own way, not theirs, and made it my own. Nobody cares about my tattoos, some people probably scorn me for them, and for that I even feel more grateful because against their disapproval, here I am, taking up space with my garden and my memories, just being me.

Nobody in the world cares about my tattoos. But I really like them.
I've got a bird friend on my shoulder who will be with me always. Poor little Squeaky, the real bird, died when I was away. I never got to say good-bye and now I don't have to because Squeaky is always there on my shoulder.
I've got a story of hiking a long trail on my leg. If I ever get Alzheimer's I will probably at least remember that experience since it's right there on my leg to remind me of all that I saw and did out there.
I've got big blue roses. Lots of color. I was hated and criticized mercilessly all my life for being ugly but now I have pretty colors on my skin to make me happy.
And finally, my butterfly. First time I went to a tattoo shop the artist there told me of giving an old lady a tattoo of a butterfly on her arm because she had always wanted one. There are so many things in life I've always wanted to do and it took me a while to realize that someday never comes. Do it now. And even though a barely-graduated apprentice did my butterfly, he cleverly mirrored the motif of the leaves of my roses and tied it all together. I feel like I carry a flower garden and a little bit of spring around with me wherever I go.
I claimed my body from those who had prior claims, defined it my own way, not theirs, and made it my own. Nobody cares about my tattoos, some people probably scorn me for them, and for that I even feel more grateful because against their disapproval, here I am, taking up space with my garden and my memories, just being me.

Nobody in the world cares about my tattoos. But I really like them.
I've got a bird friend on my shoulder who will be with me always. Poor little Squeaky, the real bird, died when I was away. I never got to say good-bye and now I don't have to because Squeaky is always there on my shoulder.
I've got a story of hiking a long trail on my leg. If I ever get Alzheimer's I will probably at least remember that experience since it's right there on my leg to remind me of all that I saw and did out there.
I've got big blue roses. Lots of color. I was hated and criticized mercilessly all my life for being ugly but now I have pretty colors on my skin to make me happy.
And finally, my butterfly. First time I went to a tattoo shop the artist there told me of giving an old lady a tattoo of a butterfly on her arm because she had always wanted one. There are so many things in life I've always wanted to do and it took me a while to realize that someday never comes. Do it now. And even though a barely-graduated apprentice did my butterfly, he cleverly mirrored the motif of the leaves of my roses and tied it all together. I feel like I carry a flower garden and a little bit of spring around with me wherever I go.
I claimed my body from those who had prior claims, defined it my own way, not theirs, and made it my own. Nobody cares about my tattoos, some people probably scorn me for them, and for that I even feel more grateful because against their disapproval, here I am, taking up space with my garden and my memories, just being me.

Nobody in the world cares about my tattoos. But I really like them.
I've got a bird friend on my shoulder who will be with me always. Poor little Squeaky, the real bird, died when I was away. I never got to say good-bye and now I don't have to because Squeaky is always there on my shoulder.
I've got a story of hiking a long trail on my leg. If I ever get Alzheimer's I will probably at least remember that experience since it's right there on my leg to remind me of all that I saw and did out there.
I've got big blue roses. Lots of color. I was hated and criticized mercilessly all my life for being ugly but now I have pretty colors on my skin to make me happy.
And finally, my butterfly. First time I went to a tattoo shop the artist there told me of giving an old lady a tattoo of a butterfly on her arm because she had always wanted one. There are so many things in life I've always wanted to do and it took me a while to realize that someday never comes. Do it now. And even though a barely-graduated apprentice did my butterfly, he cleverly mirrored the motif of the leaves of my roses and tied it all together. I feel like I carry a flower garden and a little bit of spring around with me wherever I go.
I claimed my body from those who had prior claims, defined it my own way, not theirs, and made it my own. Nobody cares about my tattoos, some people probably scorn me for them, and for that I even feel more grateful because against their disapproval, here I am, taking up space with my garden and my memories, just being me.

Nobody in the world cares about my tattoos. But I really like them.
I've got a bird friend on my shoulder who will be with me always. Poor little Squeaky, the real bird, died when I was away. I never got to say good-bye and now I don't have to because Squeaky is always there on my shoulder.
I've got a story of hiking a long trail on my leg. If I ever get Alzheimer's I will probably at least remember that experience since it's right there on my leg to remind me of all that I saw and did out there.
I've got big blue roses. Lots of color. I was hated and criticized mercilessly all my life for being ugly but now I have pretty colors on my skin to make me happy.
And finally, my butterfly. First time I went to a tattoo shop the artist there told me of giving an old lady a tattoo of a butterfly on her arm because she had always wanted one. There are so many things in life I've always wanted to do and it took me a while to realize that someday never comes. Do it now. And even though a barely-graduated apprentice did my butterfly, he cleverly mirrored the motif of the leaves of my roses and tied it all together. I feel like I carry a flower garden and a little bit of spring around with me wherever I go.
I claimed my body from those who had prior claims, defined it my own way, not theirs, and made it my own. Nobody cares about my tattoos, some people probably scorn me for them, and for that I even feel more grateful because against their disapproval, here I am, taking up space with my garden and my memories, just being me.

Nobody in the world cares about my tattoos. But I really like them.
I've got a bird friend on my shoulder who will be with me always. Poor little Squeaky, the real bird, died when I was away. I never got to say good-bye and now I don't have to because Squeaky is always there on my shoulder.
I've got a story of hiking a long trail on my leg. If I ever get Alzheimer's I will probably at least remember that experience since it's right there on my leg to remind me of all that I saw and did out there.
I've got big blue roses. Lots of color. I was hated and criticized mercilessly all my life for being ugly but now I have pretty colors on my skin to make me happy.
And finally, my butterfly. First time I went to a tattoo shop the artist there told me of giving an old lady a tattoo of a butterfly on her arm because she had always wanted one. There are so many things in life I've always wanted to do and it took me a while to realize that someday never comes. Do it now. And even though a barely-graduated apprentice did my butterfly, he cleverly mirrored the motif of the leaves of my roses and tied it all together. I feel like I carry a flower garden and a little bit of spring around with me wherever I go.
I claimed my body from those who had prior claims, defined it my own way, not theirs, and made it my own. Nobody cares about my tattoos, some people probably scorn me for them, and for that I even feel more grateful because against their disapproval, here I am, taking up space with my garden and my memories, just being me.

I started at the ankle and have been moving upward. I guess that's not normal but I didn't know. Or maybe it is normal and I still don't know nothin'.

I started at the ankle and have been moving upward. I guess that's not normal but I didn't know. Or maybe it is normal and I still don't know nothin'.

I just got this butterfly to hopefully take some attention off the mistake below and fill the empty space in the front. Bugged me that looking at myself head-on I only saw red balls. I did this as a walk-in on the spur of the moment.

I think the imaginary border I crossed was simply walking in to get one with no advanced notice or anything. Plus yeah, compared to the average middle-aged, middle-class person, there's a lot of color on my leg. A lot of NEW color on my leg.

I just got this butterfly to hopefully take some attention off the mistake below and fill the empty space in the front. Bugged me that looking at myself head-on I only saw red balls. I did this as a walk-in on the spur of the moment.

I just got this butterfly to hopefully take some attention off the mistake below and fill the empty space in the front. Bugged me that looking at myself head-on I only saw red balls. I did this as a walk-in on the spur of the moment.

ExpendableHero - at least you supported someone who works an honest trade and who is an artist. Lots of people are struggling to survive, not just homeless people. You have kept one person afloat one more day.
I went shopping on Saturday and decided I would see if I could get a walk-in tattoo. I did get one. I'm very pleased with it but while getting it the whole time I'm thinking how am I going to explain this impulse to my un-tattooed partner? And will he hurry up already? I'm late for dinner.
When I got home I had to explain my delay, and obviously eventually I was going to have to show him the tattoo so I pulled up my pant leg. First thing he said was "Oh no, now you're one of THOSE people." What a jerk thing to say. Now I feel kinda bad, like what is wrong with me? Am I having a mid-life crisis? I used to be such an ordinary good girl. But then I see my butterfly and I really like it. I always wanted a butterfly tattoo and now I have one and the guy I went to, despite being a newly graduated apprentice, did a nice job, perfect lines, super traditional. Cleverly matched the pattern of the butterfly to the leaves of my roses and achieved what I wanted from a simple butterfly tattoo. I can't wait to take him everywhere with me.
So my "blues", if you can call it that, are that with this butterfly I've sort of crossed a threshold into being quite tattooed plus I have a sort of secret pleasure only I understand.

ExpendableHero - at least you supported someone who works an honest trade and who is an artist. Lots of people are struggling to survive, not just homeless people. You have kept one person afloat one more day.
I went shopping on Saturday and decided I would see if I could get a walk-in tattoo. I did get one. I'm very pleased with it but while getting it the whole time I'm thinking how am I going to explain this impulse to my un-tattooed partner? And will he hurry up already? I'm late for dinner.
When I got home I had to explain my delay, and obviously eventually I was going to have to show him the tattoo so I pulled up my pant leg. First thing he said was "Oh no, now you're one of THOSE people." What a jerk thing to say. Now I feel kinda bad, like what is wrong with me? Am I having a mid-life crisis? I used to be such an ordinary good girl. But then I see my butterfly and I really like it. I always wanted a butterfly tattoo and now I have one and the guy I went to, despite being a newly graduated apprentice, did a nice job, perfect lines, super traditional. Cleverly matched the pattern of the butterfly to the leaves of my roses and achieved what I wanted from a simple butterfly tattoo. I can't wait to take him everywhere with me.
So my "blues", if you can call it that, are that with this butterfly I've sort of crossed a threshold into being quite tattooed plus I have a sort of secret pleasure only I understand.

ExpendableHero - at least you supported someone who works an honest trade and who is an artist. Lots of people are struggling to survive, not just homeless people. You have kept one person afloat one more day.
I went shopping on Saturday and decided I would see if I could get a walk-in tattoo. I did get one. I'm very pleased with it but while getting it the whole time I'm thinking how am I going to explain this impulse to my un-tattooed partner? And will he hurry up already? I'm late for dinner.
When I got home I had to explain my delay, and obviously eventually I was going to have to show him the tattoo so I pulled up my pant leg. First thing he said was "Oh no, now you're one of THOSE people." What a jerk thing to say. Now I feel kinda bad, like what is wrong with me? Am I having a mid-life crisis? I used to be such an ordinary good girl. But then I see my butterfly and I really like it. I always wanted a butterfly tattoo and now I have one and the guy I went to, despite being a newly graduated apprentice, did a nice job, perfect lines, super traditional. Cleverly matched the pattern of the butterfly to the leaves of my roses and achieved what I wanted from a simple butterfly tattoo. I can't wait to take him everywhere with me.
So my "blues", if you can call it that, are that with this butterfly I've sort of crossed a threshold into being quite tattooed plus I have a sort of secret pleasure only I understand.

I just got this butterfly to hopefully take some attention off the mistake below and fill the empty space in the front. Bugged me that looking at myself head-on I only saw red balls. I did this as a walk-in on the spur of the moment.

I just got this butterfly to hopefully take some attention off the mistake below and fill the empty space in the front. Bugged me that looking at myself head-on I only saw red balls. I did this as a walk-in on the spur of the moment.

I just got this butterfly to hopefully take some attention off the mistake below and fill the empty space in the front. Bugged me that looking at myself head-on I only saw red balls. I did this as a walk-in on the spur of the moment.

I just got this butterfly to hopefully take some attention off the mistake below and fill the empty space in the front. Bugged me that looking at myself head-on I only saw red balls. I did this as a walk-in on the spur of the moment.

I just got this butterfly to hopefully take some attention off the mistake below and fill the empty space in the front. Bugged me that looking at myself head-on I only saw red balls. I did this as a walk-in on the spur of the moment.

I just got this butterfly to hopefully take some attention off the mistake below and fill the empty space in the front. Bugged me that looking at myself head-on I only saw red balls. I did this as a walk-in on the spur of the moment.