They say death can be a beautiful thing.
It teaches the living to live to the fullest.
"OMG, who died?" Carl the dense one asked.
Stanley though, had other questions.
"Who the heck are they?" he wanted to know. "Who are these people you're hanging out with, spouting such guruji nonsense? Have you been talking to Oprah Winfrey?"
Realising he's on the wrong track, Carl immediately switched gears.
"Yah, Adam. We demand answers. Who are they?!"
"You guys are spoiling my moment," I said.
"How do I put this across... it's so hard," I said.
"That's what she said," Stanley the sex bunny said without missing a beat.
"Who is SHE?" Carl replied, genuinely curious. "And who are they?!"
Stanley replied with an eye-rolling icon.
"Life is short. It's important to listen to your heart. And right now, the rhythm is telling me to dance and follow my own beat," I wrote.
"Adam, you have wasted my time to read those 25 words that you strung together but which tell me absolutely nothing," Stanley said, issuing his first stern warning.
"Who died and made you the Dailai Lama?" Stanley asked, before answering the question himself: "Well, logically, in this case, it would have to be the Dailai Lama himself to have died."
Carl was rightfully confused.
"Didn't that fella die many years back? The black guy with the big afro, always in an orange robe, always smiling and making a sign to tell people to wait?" Carl asked.
"No, Carl. That's Oprah Winfrey, and she's still alive," Stanley replied coldly. "And I don't blame you for mixing her up with Saibaba 'cos if you google the most spiritual celebrity in the world, she's top of the list. And yes, they do look alike."
Carl didn't like what he was reading, and posted a series of question marks in response.
I too didn't like where this was going.
It veered off way too much and I needed to reassess my opening remarks.
So I decided to speak plainly and simply.
"Guys, I want to get a tattoo."
That got the group's attention.
"Wow," Stanley said.
"Errr… so, Adam, who died actually?" Carl asked.
The idea of getting a tattoo has always been on my mind and I had been toying with it on and off for the last 10 years.
Just that I didn't feel such a strong urge until now.
"Adam darling, when I feel a strong urge, I don't go running to the tattoo parlour. There are many ways I can teach you to manage your strong urge," Stanley the sex bunny replied.
"Although if I were to go to the tattoo parlour, the idea of lying on my belly with a heavily tattooed man behind me, prickling and poking at me and making me yelp in pain can sound quite exciting too."
The tattoo I have in mind is no ordinary tattoo.
It has its roots in ancient spiritual animism.
"Are you tattooing animals?" Carl asked naturally.
"Are you into beastility?" Stanley asked naturally.
No, and no.
For the past five years, I had been attracted to the art of Sak Yant -- Thai for tattooing ancient scriptures.
"Is that why you were possessed by Oprah Winfrey and spouting all those guruji shit?" Stanley asked.
I should never have chosen an abstract and meaningless way of quoting rubbish to start any opening statements.
But I stand by the fact that I want to have these ancient scriptures tattooed on me.
Carl, the fairest and dumbest of them all, was very perplexed (as usual).
"Why do you want to taint your body with tattoo? And what more with magical spells?"
But this time, Carl does have a point.
It's also something my partner J had been very perplexed about -- and that's the main reason I haven't put ink to, well, skin.
My partner J, who's deeply Catholic, does not oppose to me having that tattoo just because it has spiritual and religious links.
He wants me to think very carefully because the tattoo is permanent.
"And why do the ancient scriptures speak to you?" he asked me. "Do you need protection?"
Stanley, who is deeply sexual, said protection is always important.
"But do you see me tattooing a condom on my back? No right? I think J is absolutely correct about this thing. You need to think carefully," he said.
I have been, and for the past five years, my on-again, off-again research has taught me so many things about these ancient tattoos: Their origins, their meanings, the types of tattoos, where to get them, and what not to do after getting the tattoos.
Stanley was appalled.
"What do you mean there are rules post-tattoo?!"
Well, because these tattoos are sacred in nature, there are things the wearer should avoid doing.
Among which, is to practise the five precepts of Buddhism. And in some Sak Yant forums, I've read that the rules include avoiding touching the clothes of a woman who is menstruating.
Stanley went bonkers.
"Are you effing kidding me, Adam? Are you in a cult?!"
Carl's mental faculties were also stretched to the max and by now has no words.
So he responded by posting a gif of a group of hooded men walking in circles while hitting themselves on the head with a plank of wood.
"What did J say about the tattoo?" Stanley asked.
Well, I had a really long talk with J and I finally gave him the ultimatum.
"YOU gave him the ultimatum. YOU who want to join a cult and tattoo sacred shit on your body have the CHEEK to give your boyfriend an ultimatum?! No offence," Stanley wrote, and pasted a smiley icon.
None taken.
The consensus is, J is okay with me getting the tattoo "if that's what you really want".
But he's asked me to take an extra step.
"What? Kill yourself first? Sorry, no offence," Stanley said.
"They say death can be a beautiful thing. It teaches the living to live to the fullest," Carl wrote, hoping to clear some tension.
J's idea is for me to replicate the tattoos with henna first, I explain.
And if I am used to the idea of the temporary tattoo on my back, then I will know for sure. If I don't like the Sak Yant on my back, I can at least get rid of the temporary tattoo and get the idea out of my head once and for all. So it's really a trial run and win-win, I say.
"You are so lucky to have J who's so wise," Stanley said.
"And why am I hearing this only for the first time," Stanley asked.
"Yeah, why?" Carl chimed in bravely, taking the cue from Stanley, for once feeling safe that he's not the only one who doesn't know things.
But it didn't take my boys long for them to be supportive.
Stanley later said that if that's really what I want to do to my skin, then who's to say no?
"Tattoos are forever on skin. And true beauty is skin deep," wrote Stanley the converted guruji who's mastered the art of stringing words together without actual meaning.
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