A tattoed sin

What is it about tattoos that petrifies people? Is it the typical revulsion of the unknown? Is it an outburst of jealous energy? Or is it the realisation that one doesnt have balls sufficiently strong enough to do it? The outraged interrogation of the tattoed individual is testimony in itself that our people are not ready for the power of free expression of ones individuality. We still desire and slog like donkeys to do nothing different. Blasphemy, sacrilege it would be if one dared to follow ones dreams and indulge in ones impulses. What a world we live in? One that doesnt recognise individuality as a virtue, instead condemns it as a blemish. I for one pity those who have a rigid view of what is right and what is wrong. I wish they could experience the pain of committing a mistake, the joy of retrieving whats lost, the astonishment when one realises ones own potential, the exhilaration of a rare moment of success. what would life be without non-conformity? What would be the joy in living life if all there is to life is dour and dull? Points to ponder eh!