Tan Lines, Tattoos, and Battle Scars

I've decided that people love tan lines and battle scars. Southern Californians especially. It's because we, either as a state, country, or a people, just love to tell stories. It springs out of pride, a desire for everyone to know what we've done, for them to hear what I have to say, to appreciate my story.

And tan lines and battle scars tell these stories. Whether they're stories of hours upon hours of tennis conditioning that's given us a sock line and a gnarly shorts line or the comfort of flip flops with that traditional Rainbow line or the memories of the time in eight grade when we went ice skating and the laces slipped down into our skates and made our ankles bloody.

I think tattoos fall under the same category, though not everyone appreciates them. It's a tangible, physical, concrete representation of an abstract memory.

We are a prideful people. We like to tell stories. We like to glorify ourselves. And how better than to have a constant physical reminder of these stories?

So I have tan lines, battle scars, and will hopefully have σπλάγχνα on my wrist soon. I am prideful. I am fallen. I tell stories and think of myself too much. It's common to all of humanity.