Move and Other Life Updates

It’s been awhile since I’ve done a general life update, so I figured I’d do that here.

The first one, and the most glaring for everyone, is the status on my move to San Antonio. When is it going to happen? Quicker than I thought it might. Currently, I’m looking at a fall move date (after the upcoming Mercury Retrograde passes – I’ll talk more about that later). My boss has given me the blessing to work 100% remotely when the time comes, so long as I can show up in the office “as-needed” (which he will give me enough heads-up to be able to do so). It’s such a relief I won’t have to worry about a job hunt, because in today’s job market that could take months to years.

Laina came up and visited this past weekend, and we had a blast together and with a couple of my local friends. We went bowling, something I love to do but haven’t done in years and it sure as hell showed. We ate some great gluten-free food at a couple of my favorite local eateries. I showed her some highlights of Abilene (what few there are). She drove Phoenix for a little bit, did excellent for someone who hadn’t driven a manual transmission vehicle in 16 years, and I drove her pickup for a bit and realized just how easy it was to drive (oh, and I didn’t lock up the brakes trying to clutch!). I’ll be going back down to San Antonio this weekend for a visit, also, and to do some more scoping. This will be my first road trip with Phoenix, so I’m really hoping her ailing fourth cylinder has been cured this time around!

Concerning the gluten-free thing, I’m coming to realize in the few times I’ve gone gluten-free to make Laina’s life easier when eating out together or having drinks, that there is in fact a life after giving up gluten. Sure, there are so many things I won’t be able to have, but I’m surprised by how many things I will be able to still enjoy if I in fact have to go gluten-free. I wasn’t willing to consider it before, but now I totally am, for I want to stick around and see my vision come true. Once I get settled into my real home, I’ll have the panel run to see if it is in fact the thing. As mentioned previous, it could explain a lot of things ailing both my physical and mental health.

I’m slowly working at getting into music again. I’m playing my guitar and pipes more, and am gradually inching my way back out to performing again. It was a great outlet, and I loved it before that one time I got booed off stage. Singing along to the radio and jamming with a certain special someone and a close local friend has helped me to regain some of my confidence, and while I’m still a long way away from ready to getting back to performing, but my confidence is slowly returning. Very slowly, but returning.

Concerning my next tattoo, I think my next one won’t be a new one, but a re-work of an existing one – my dagger and Saltire flag. That one healed like complete shit. It’s already lost so much definition. Many lines are blown out, the color saturation is spotty and the detail in the dagger is blurred out. I’ve stopped putting sunscreen on that one and am letting the sun do its thing to lighten it up to make it easier to re-work. Hopefully that will come before the end of the year, for I’m out of ideas for a new tattoo at the moment but I still need to go under the needle regularly as that’s an integral part of my overall well-being. That tattoo was the only one my primary artist hasn’t done, and needless to say I’ve learned my lesson not to get tattooed in the back of a camper.

Anyway, probably the biggest transformation in me now? Remember how I mentioned Mercury Retrograde earlier? Recent months has served as sort of a spiritual awakening for me, getting in touch with my higher consciousness and the ways of the universe. It’s an angle I’d never considered before, but after so much of what Laina has shared with me about true Sidereal astrology (not the Tropical bullshit that came out of the Council of Nicea, along with that lying sack of shit called the Bible), and how true it’s rung to me in my own life, I can’t help but think there’s definitely something to it. Of course the Abrahamic/monotheistic religions are obviously total bullshit, but that doesn’t mean spirituality isn’t a thing. I can be quite comfortable being an atheist while adding that dimension, and it’s so very fulfilling. I’m just lucky my sign under both the real and fake systems is the same, for I’d already been permanently marked as a Pisces!

Is there anything else? I can’t think of anything at the moment, but those are my biggest life updates. I’m on my way to being a better version of me. Don’t worry – I’m still the short shorts (warm weather) and leggings (cold weather) clad, tatted, Aspie me I’ve always been and always will be. I’m just putting to rest some demons in my past and coming out of my shell more, embracing my true inner self. This has been a transformative experience for me, and it’s only the beginning. What’s next? Only the universal consciousness knows, but I can’t wait to find out!

The Scratched Out Face…

So it’s been but a day since I’ve had my new tattoo. For those who missed the post, here it is:

img_2070

The question I’ve gotten from a few people is who is that person in the picture frame? Whose face is marked out of that picture? Some have speculated it’s an ex-lover, an ex-friend or something of the sort. Truth be told when Jade first drew it up I didn’t quite know either (note: this was an element in the original concept drawing she did with the hourglass and scroll, but it didn’t fit on my left side). I just knew it spoke to me in some way and asked her to add the element back in for this piece. Well today, in my daily BSing and virtual cuddling with my beloved neuro-sister Laina, I figured it out.

So who is this person? I can’t speak for Jade and her vision in the original drawing. That said, as I’m the one wearing the tattoo, it’s up to me to define, so here’s your answer: that person is *ME*.

Now hold on a second, why would I scratch my own face out? It’s easy really: I’m not the same person I was a few years ago. Hell, I’m not the same person I was two months ago. In that light, the scratched out face represents the old me. The me who dealt with my pain in very unhealthy ways (of which I will not go into detail here). The old me who was judgmental of others. The old me who hated the mere concept of neurodiversity and got so angry with my fellow autism spectrumites who said “I don’t want a cure.” The old me who thought I was sick, broken, and a freak of nature. The old me who thought I was doomed for failure from the day I was born.

In short: the picture represents the me I don’t ever want to revert back to.

I’ll keep that picture as a reminder of where I’ve been and where I don’t want to return. The picture stays there on my desk (or, in this case, in my dermis) reminding me not to look into the past, but to the future instead.

Moving forward is not about forgetting my past. It’s about processing it and moving on from it. It’s about becoming the truly best version of me I can be. Placement wise, it’s almost in direct line with my semicolon – my very first tattoo as a symbol that I’m still here. Whether or not that was a conscious thing for Jade when she stenciled it on I don’t know, but to me it ties that in. After all, my first tattoo is what set all this in motion anyway – launching this blog, which led to me crossing paths with so many of you, and for Laina and I to eventually meet in person. My ink journey started my transformation, but that was only the beginning. My trip to San Antonio at the end of March was a bigger step – being in the presence of the person I now believe is my “twin soul” who helped me realize my own worth as I am.

I’ve still got a lot of work ahead of me, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. Nothing worth it is easy after all, now is it? Alas, this is the start of better things ahead.

And that, my friends, is the story behind the scratched out face.

No, You Can’t Do That (Funny/Stupid Search Term)…

You know, I’ve gotten some pretty hilarious search terms hitting on my blog over the past nearly 3 years. Some are just funny and some, like this one, are just plain disturbing and so stupid that they deserve an “idiot” award.

Well, there are two idiot searches here (and if you’re this stupid you shouldn’t be getting a tattoo to begin with) but one of these takes the fucking cake, and I don’t even need to point out which one:

dafuq

Well, I’d not at all recommend putting menthol on an open tattoo (hello infection!), but I can’t see how it would hurt a healed tattoo. That said, I’m pretty sure the directions on the bottle of Hush Gel clearly state “do not apply to the genital area.”

Whoever the fuck you are, I seriously implore you re-think your life choices. 1) read the directions of any pharmaceutical or cosmetic product before use to have all your stupid questions answered, and 2) why the fuck would you get a tattoo down there? If you’re thinking of using it for lube, you do know there are products made for that specific purpose right (K-Y Jelly)?

Man, this world is going to hell in a handbasket. And people wonder why I refuse to procreate. I’m…just speechless…

Next Tattoo Preview

You know I can’t go more than a few months without a new tattoo, and it’s been two months since my last one thus the time is getting near again.

For this one I wanted something like a tabletop scene to “complete” what I just completed on my left arm. What would I normally be doing while writing? Probably smoking a cigar and sipping some wine right? Hence the concept for my next tattoo was born, which I pitched to Jade and she loved, so here’s what she came up with:

Appointment set for Saturday May 4th so stay tuned; as always my lovely followers are among the first who will see it!

I’ll Spread My Wings and I’ll Learn How to Fly…

In the final post of this series (and likely also the shortest), this refernce is another one you practically had to be living under a rock to miss the reference. Well, maybe not as blatantly as you would have had to with “Complicated” but maybe it’s obvious to me because this last one was almost our high school class song (it lost out to some stupid-ass country song called “Young” – I was disappointed).

So I’ve decided to embrace my quirks and so-called “flaws,” decided to un-complicate things and decided to live life I never have. So what do I have to in order to do that?

That’s an easy one: I need to spread my wings and learn how to fly. I need to do what it takes to touch the sky. I need to make a wish, take a chance, make a change and breakway from this prison that I call Crapilene. When I moved to DFWTF, I thought my heart was calling me back to Abilene and maybe it was in the interim, but that was just a safety net. I realize I was just falling victim to Stockholm syndrome, aggravated by the excessive misery heaped upon me by the toxic culture of “The Met” (and anyone who has lived there knows DFWTF will absolutely suck your soul).

With starting a new business comes a huge risk. Oh it’s a risk. I’ve done some scary shit in the past, but that’s probably the scariest thing anyone could ever do. Alas, with big risk also comes the potential for big reward. My business model will never make me rich, and I mean never. If I were to be honest with myself I’d be making considerably less money than I am now, even being in a city that’s all but ideal for my business concept (which SA is while Abilene is not in any way). A high end cigar & spirits bar is a labor of love all the way.

Alas, there is one thing I’ve come to realize: getting rich is life’s biggest booby prize. Living where I do (not actually in Abilene, but in a farming community just outside) I’m actually considered high income for my area even though I don’t bank. Alas I have next-to-no living expenses in my current arrangement. I’m living almost like someone who really makes half again what I make in my salaried 7-4 job. I used to think all I needed was money and I’d be happy (particularly when I went through a long stretch of unemployment), but now that I have some money in the bank and am still as miserable as ever, I realize how wrong that notion was. Of course, it’d be nice to be both happy and rich but I think every person on this fucking planet would pick happiness over riches if they were forced to pick between one or the other. You’d have to be a real idiot not to (or maybe a masochist).

Of course, the added benefit of being in SA would be to be close to my beloved neuro-sister. While it might be the icing on the cake, it’s a very, very thick layer of icing – maybe even thicker than the cake itself. Someone who I see as potential partner in this business endeavor (but who would also be the toughest one to convince to come with me) actually seems to sympathize and suggested we might be twin souls. Maybe that explains the pain I’m feeling as I write this – maybe it’s like a magnet that’s pulling on my body so hard that it’s creating pain beause my body can’t move with the pull.

Of course, that’s not to downplay saying goodbye to the ones here. Of course I love my parents, and while they would be sad to see me go, they’re even sadder that I feel so bad. I’ve not yet divulged to them why I feel this bad, but they know. They just know, and I’m sure they’d be 100% supportive of me when this comes to fruition. I’ll be back to visit of course. Abilene to SA is only about 250 miles after all, and after I’ve gotten this far in my tattoo journey almost exclusively as one artist’s canvas (and soon to be just one artist’s when I have her re-work the one done by someone else that healed like complete shit) so I’ll have to come back to add to my tattoo collection, unless she decides to break away herself and open a shop in SA that is. 😉

And yes, you read that right – it’s not “if,” it’s “when” – it’s in the stars – not only am I a tropical (false) Pisces I’m also a sidereal (true) Pisces and self-employment is in my DNA according to the true system and after exploring sidereal astrology with Laina I am a firm believer in it – hence my calling this whole thing a spiritual awakening. I’m not saying I make my every move based on it, but it’s amazingly and bizarrely accurate.

My purpose isn’t to sit in an office all day. My purpose is to do cool shit with cool people. While cranes are cool machines, the career/industry surrounding it is anything but. It’s just as soul-sucking as any other corporate job. Nah, I have to transcend. I have no choice. If I don’t, well then I might as well just commit suicide because by not I’ll be doing nothing but prolonging needless suffering and I absolutely refuse to subject the ones I love to the pain of losing a loved one to suicide. I just can’t do it. Why do you think I’m so glad my attempt four years ago failed, against all odds.

Breaking away is the final step in my personal transformation, which has been a process and now it’s entering its final stages. Of course, the process started on January 2nd, 2016 when that seemingly small blue mark was permanently etched into the dermis of my posterior inner right wrist reminding me that my story wasn’t over yet. Who knew something so small, so profound would have such life-changing consequences? What are the odds.

It’s not coincidence. It’s destiny.

Well, so much for being the shortest post of the series. It turned out to be the longest. Oops. I guess the words just flow sometimes. But that’s OK. I’ll say what needs to be said regardless of word count. Hope you enjoyed the song if anything else.

That concludes this series. I know I’ll have my haters, but you need not comment. I have no time for that. If you dare to hate on any of these posts by the time this one goes up (note: the series were pre-written on the same day and set to post in succeeding days) you will be automatically blacklisted. I don’t need anyone raining on my parade. You’re either with me or you’re not and if you’re not fuck off and unfollow me. Thank you.

Ink As Therapy

Right on schedule, the Saniderm was ready to come off of my new tattoo and it has now entered the peeling phase, which will last about another week or so. From there I’ll have a finished tattoo that’s ready to show off.

Alas, as any ink enthusiast, ideas have already been swirling in my head for my next one and I think I have a rough concept of what I’ll be getting next. I’ll need to play around with certain design elements but as a matter of “balance” I’ll likely choose placement on the other side in the same spot (since I am all about balance and symmetry – it’s the mathematician/engineer in me). The only one I’ve not yet balanced out is my rib panel but I’m in absolutely no hurry to have my other ribs tattooed – that was a pain unlike anything I’d ever felt before.

Anyway, I digress. Obviously I’ve done the whole gamut for “therapy” – some of it forced upon me by those who also forced existence upon me, some of it voluntarily. I’ve done the whole counseling, behavioral modification and even antidepressant/antipsychotic medications. Nothing ever worked. Nothing was able to quiet my tortured mind. I guess that’s a challenging element of autism – it seems a lot of traditional treatment methods don’t work on us. Maybe this further signifies that autism should not be classified as an illness or disorder? That’s something to chew on for a later time.

Back to the topic at hand. Ink as therapy. Tattoo enthusiasts throw around the term “ink therapy” all the time. Alas, as weird as it sounds, there might be some truth to that statement. As I’ve eluded to it in previous posts, but for me, being in the hot seat is when I’m most at peace. For me, when Jade is working her magic on my human canvas is the only time my mind is ever “quiet” as it were. All the rest of the time it’s racing, typical of those in my tribe. I even have trouble sleeping due to it. Sleep? Hah, what the fuck is that?

With as much negative stigma as there still is around tattoos, the benefits I’ve reaped from my favorite hobby have been incredible. I feel like my overall pain tolerance has improved (day-to-day bumps and scrapes aren’t as bothersome to me as they used to be) and maybe I’ve even gotten an immune boost because I don’t get sick like I used to. There are studies suggesting such too.

In that light, ink has been the one thing that has been able to do what counseling, drugs, etc. were all unable to do. It centers me. It’s meditative. It makes me feel “good.” Shit, as they seem to be the only form of “treatment” that works for me it seems to me my health insurance should fucking pay for my ink. It’s better “medicine” than any of the poison that criminal enterprise known as Big Pharma peddles as such.

I’ve found something that works for me, so at the very least that should be respected and tolerated. Whether or not you even like my tattoos is of no never mind to me (art is subjective after all – a masterpiece to person A could be butt-ugly to person B) as I’ve now transcended past tattoos solely for meaning to the point of just getting them because they look cool and feel good. Call that hedonistic as it were, I admit it is. I’m not hurting myself or anyone else in the process so I fail to see where that’s a problem.

Stay cool and ink it up!