Reversed perspective?

This has been an emotionally intense day. Not really sure why. It's been about boundaries, for me, and the weird thing is I feel bad for the wrong thing.

On one hand, I have a friend.. Well, had one, anyway.. Who requested I no longer contacted him, awhile ago. And I've respected his wish. However, after awhile, I started feeling uneasy, not knowing if he was still okay. So the whole.. Cold turkey-thing, didn't last that long. Granted, I just check up on him from time to time, on the sites I know he's a part of, stuff like that. Just to see a recent update, to know he's alive. It makes it a little bit easier to breathe.

I don't really read what he writes, anymore. I find it a too direct reminder. Makes me miss his sense of humor and the discussions at 5 am. The inside-jokes from way back. Words like pudding, nuts and fuckerdoodle still makes me crack up. Well, nowadays it's more like... Hide the fact that I'm amused behind a veil of indifference. It's just easier.

However, a sentence caught my attention, about an old project of his, the other day. And I couldn't help wondering. So I read the post, and got through the whole damn thing before I even realized it. He wanted to re-do the whole thing, make the old comic again. Looking for a scetch artist and a graphic artist. But the old work was lost when the original site was shut down. So he didn't really have any examples of style.

I do, however. I used to think of myself as his back-up disc. I saved almost everything he made. Including a good bit of the comic. So I broke the silent agreement of no contact. And sent some of the old stuff to him. I pretty much expected him to delete it as soon as my name appeared on the screen, but since one of the pictures I sent is now on the forum I spotted the whole thing on, I guess not. He hasn't answered, and honestly, I hope he doesn't. It would kill me to get as much as a 'thank you', and then go back to pretending he doesn't exsist.

But I feel weird for not respecting his wish to be left alone. At the time, it seemed obvious to me, that of course I should send it to him, he made it, after all, and now needed it. But I went against his wish. And I'm not sure I'm okay with doing that.

Then there's a thing I should feel bad for, that I don't. That won't be a detailed story. At all. Sometimes I feel a little robotic, you know? Too tight, too proper. Too moral. And I've done something highly immoral, that I feel absolutely fine about. What's even worse, I've decided to feel fine about it in the future, as well. Live while you can. I'm perfectly happy with it, and I really shouldn't be, but who cares? Makes me a little more human than robot.

Oh yeah, on another (and entirely unrelated) note. My tattoo is, after 3½ years of impatience, finally done. And beautiful. And... scabbed over cause it's 2 days old XD Barely even hurt, this time. I think I said 'ow' once, and it sounded utterly bored. I didn't stir at all, except for when he sprayed the cleansing alcohol on it. T'was cold as hell frozen over. But I found myself to be very relaxed throughout the whole session. Well, maybe a little too relaxed, my foot fell asleep twice. And the tattoo artist actually at one point asked me "Tell me, doesn't it hurt like hell here, cause I'm hitting pure scar tissue?". And I just waited till the needle was gone, shrugged, and said that it was worse at the spine.

I have a pretty high tolerance for pain. The scar tissue was from the last time I attempted to get this damn thing. The guy who made it originally, actually got so deep into my skin he almost hit nerves. This new (and far more talented, not to mention experienced) guy told me that. No fucking wonder it hurt that much. He told me he was impressed I had sat there throughout that, cause he would've made a run for it. Well. Yeah, I really wanted to, it was painful as all hell. But I figured getting up, while having a vibrating needle stuck in your back, probably wouldn't make that much better.

I'm thrilled it has been fixed, now I can actually show my back again. With pride. And I'm no longer scared of having that buzzing tattooneedle near me. I've learned it doesn't hurt, in the hands of the right person. So from now on, if I should decide on anymore tattoos, I know where I'll do my shopping. Probably for piercings, too. And those I already know I want. My ears need a minimum of 3 additional holes.

So, enough for morals, corruptions of innocent minds, regrets and bodyart. I'm gonna attempt to make myself a dress tomorrow, or at least a skirt. Visiting the grandparents tends to keep me occupied. Till I go home again. Then I sit here in silence and ponder all the disaster I could cause.

Disasters make for good entertainment, when your tv is out cold, and your internet is too slow for your liking.