Rebellion

Why the need for tattoos and piercings? I am an advocate for them myself, but why has it turned into an addiction? I find myself constantly longing for more and more, and I don't know what the reason is for it. A permanent mark for something that has happened, or a longing for something I am lacking? Maybe a strive to be different, or to be just like everyone else. The possibilities are endless if you really have the time to think about it. The thoughts don't leave my mind for an instant, yet I refrain myself from giving in to please others around me. Why should I not then please myself first? Life is fleeting, yet I am second-guessing every decision I make. Indecisiveness plagues my being, for the fear that I am one day going to regret actually living my life. No career would take me covered in ink and metal. Is it better to be happy, or to make life livable? Or is life more livable if one is happy? Perhaps it is fear of living that makes life concrete. Perhaps I am pleasing myself by refraining from the indulgence of such a so-called "rebellion". It is no different than heroine or cocaine, with jitters sometimes setting in. I believe the ambivalence of this will be never-ending, and I will never know whether it will be positive or negative. I guess, ultimately, destiny must take course, and what ever decision I make will be determined by it. I can't help but feel the need to help others before myself. I guess they would call that a good-hearted person. But is it good-hearted, or is it just normal. Shouldn't everyone care about other people? I am too deep in thought to truly find the answer. Maybe destiny will whisper it to me.