So when I was 17 I got my first tattoo and my grandfather took one look at me and then refused to speak with me for 2 months. When he finaly stopped giving me the silent treatment we never mentioned it again.
When I got my second tattoo, 2 years later, he hugged me and told me (in a very firm voice) that I had to stop now! I was destroying, scarring, myself! It. Had. To. Stop!
I have not yet showed him my third tattoo.
Now this is a picture of a woman on her wedding day. Full back piece and still rocking a backless dress! She is beautifull and powerfull and she speaks volumes without even looking into the camera.
I’m so very sorry grandfather - but when you told me I was being stupid and silly and destroying myself you where in the wrong, not me!
My hope is that one day, (perhaps still generations in the future but still, one day) we collectively as a human race, are going to look at each other and say "Hi human. I am human too. This is how I look. You look a little bit different than me. Maybe your skin is of another colour, maybe you have a different hairstyle, maybe you have tattoos or scares or a piersing. Perhaps you don’t. It does not really matter and I do not really care one way or another. So, again; hi human. I am human to. It is very nice to meet you!"
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to only fuck me,
I wanted you to
But I didn’t know what to
convince you with
besides my body.
|—||Hot Winds, Holy Thoughts | Lora Mathis - via lora-mathis ( )|
|—||Malcolm X (via sassyfag)|