So I pierced my eyebrow (again!). The first time I put such holes in my visage was on my 17th birthday, way back in 2004. At the time, I loved the barbell-style jewellery embedded in my skin, but tragically it only lasted half a year. One day a friend of mine leapt upon me in jest, and his curly shoulder-length hair got caught up in my facial bling. Thus, it was torn out in a painful bloody dripping mess, and for several years I didn’t bother to replace it.
But all the while I lamented its loss, and now and then considered getting pierced again. I would encounter others with eyebrow piercings of their own, and would nostalgically tell them how I used to be like them. I would occasionally harangue the mentioned friend for his role in the piercing’s untimely removal, but when he would offer to pay for its replacement I would decline. It was something I continually longed for, yet I kept convincing myself it wasn’t worth the bother.
Continue reading “A Piercing Desire”