"I want a tattoo" she said "but then I'll be seventy and it will be sagging down on all my wrinkly skin". She always had a reason not to do things. Regrets or other people's opinions, there was always something. "What makes you think you're going to live until seventy?" I asked her. "Because I want to, I don't want to die young. I want to live to 100" she was a dreamer. But I told her, "the human body is made to last 190 years, we all die young".
So she did it, she got a triangle on her wrist
She always had a reason not to do things. Regrets or other people's opinions, there was always something. But then I stopped making excuses, and I just did whatever the fuck it was that I wanted to do.

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