tattoos in berlin.
right so I’ve had a pretty decent introduction to berlin thus far, I think. and I didn’t get here until 4pm on Thursday. and I’m counting this as day one.
I’ve seen more bald women than I’ve ever seen, more facial piercings on one person than I were physically possible, so many mohawks, parts of the berlin wall, graffiti on absolutely everything, people in lederhosen just walking down the street, nearly been run over by a few dickheads on their bikes, far too many people that dress like me (I thought dressing like a well-off hippy was my thing, obviously not), people wearing far too little clothes, more buskers/street performers than melbourne on a sunday afternoon, people (men & women) wearing fishnets, a girl with bright red hair but fluoro pink eyebrows, dreadlocks (I’m jealous of these people)… I don’t think I can list anymore things. and I love it. I love diverse cities like this, it reminds me of home – although I don’t think melbourne is as out there as berlin.
something that has become quite clear to me is that in berlin, you have to have a tattoo to be a berliner. and I think I’ve managed to see some of the worst tattoos in the world; seriously, one guy had connected duplo pieces all down one arm. in colour. dude, if you’re gonna commit to getting a sleeve, at least make it worthwhile. all I can tell from that is that you obviously had such a great fucking childhood that you had to get your favourite toy tattooed on your arm… seriously, great decision.
or there was the girl who had an ‘รค’ on the back of her neck, rather large, like the size of an ashtray. but it didn’t have two dots above it, it had three. that’s not even a real letter. I find it pretty funny that I judge people with stupid tattoos when I’m sure people have said mine is, but I feel like its a privilege that only tattooed people have – non tatted up folks don’t have the right to judge (I totally just made that rule up).
then there was the guy who had his entire calf muscle tattooed black, like just the back of his leg was that black ink colour, like he decided on a deign, hated it, asked the next tat artist to cover it but he hated that too so just ended up “colouring in” the entire leg. that might not be the story, actually it’s probably not the story at all.
now I can’t help but think people who get tattooed now (like at my age) with something they believe is a truly meaningful thing, or of something that is a really pivotal moment in their life, something that means something… is that still going to be their main turning point/their main ‘something meaningful’ later on? who’s to say that what you believe now as a twenty-something is what you’ll believe later as a sixty-something? who’s to say that the meaningful event you got tattooed on you is going to be as meaningful as an event that will happen to you later in life?
then there’s obviously the argument that “the body is a canvas, why not decorate the walls?”, which I think is a really cool way to look at it. I love people who get stupid little tattoos everywhere just because they like it. I think that’s brilliant. thus making this entire rant stupid, useless and pointless.
wow, this is a bit of a turn around from the girl who is craving to get a sleeve of her own. I admire people with tattoos – bloody hell I’m attracted to people with tattoos. and I always will be.
but berlin has almost made me start to question if I’ll ever get another tattoo (dad you’ll be stoked to hear that).
aw shit.
travelling alone 