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Paint it black

I spent a long time contemplating whether I wanted to share the story behind these many fractured words that inspired the tattoo I got at the end of December. Because in short: it is not a pretty story. I got the idea for this tattoo about two years ago, but wanted to wait for the right time to have it painted on my body. I wanted something to look at every day to remind myself how far I’ve come, and how much shit I’ve actually been through. To remind myself that I’m still alive, that I’m still breathing and that...

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