Well, two days in, and it's already scabbing and itching like a mother.

I've been busy, lately, so I couldn't get time away to update with the news until now, as much as I wanted to on Saturday. For it was on Saturday that I got my second tattoo.

I guess that means I'm turning into some sort of young punk. Two tattoos in six months, approximately. But once you get one, you've sort of signed a contract--no longer will your skin be perfect. Unmarred. It will be a work of art, and you really have no say.

I've been planning number two since number one (which, for those of you who are new to me, took place one day after my birthday, on June 4th of last year). I've had the exact design in mind for significantly less time, although I've always been concidering getting what I got done--an ouroboros--somewhere on me. I got it done, eventually, on my right shoulderblade. It's gorgeous. I got the exact one pictured (minus the 666 days thing, o' course), which, I'm sure some of you note, is the one used in the now-defunct TV show Millenium. Chris Carter's best, if you ask me.

I didn't just get it out of fangirlishness, though. It's a beautiful symbol, and represents much--spirals, eternity, God's Eye. And it's neat, heh. That's what it all boils down to.

It was significantly less painful than the first. I suppose that's a combination of me being used to it and the fact that it wasn't on my frickin' ankle. It also seemed somehow... anticlimactic. People expect it of me now, that's one thing. Kat and VK, my trusty companions who accompanied me, were falling asleep during the procedure. I wasn't waiting three years to get this one done. I probably am looking back on one through rose-tinted glasses. A thousand things.

But it's not important. What is is that there is now a snake always eating its tail on my back. Rock on.

Photos, maybe. When and if I get off my rear. And my digital camera needs to be fixed, to boot. Rar.

See you, my lovelies!