Tattooed.

In July it was my birthday, on the 5th, to be exact. I decided I wanted a tattoo. Deciding on what to get was the hard part. Really hard part. But, once I read "Inkheart" by Cornelia Funke, I knew. So today, finally, I went and had it done.

It's not just for the book itself. I adore that story and wish I could live in it with Meggie and her father, but, I also love the term Inkheart and what it means to me. I know in the book it is used to describe Capricorn's inky black heart. But for me it means something else. It means my identity. I am a bookworm and simply love opening a book and seeing those first few lines that may take me on an exquisite adventure I'll never forget. The creak of the spine and the smell of the pages with that black ink on them. Also, I used to be a poet and fiction writer. Not really a bad one either. I used to write story after story on a daily basis. I still write a little, but not as much as I used to. That is a part of me I will never forget even if I stop writing or, ugh, completely forbid, if I stop being so in love with books. It's not a part of me I will ever be willing to let go of. A part of me I shall never forget. Thus, the tattoo - on my arm, so I can see it easily whenever I want to.