Yup. You read this correctly. I did.
And no, don't worry. It's not a very detailed face of one of my exes, neither is it the face of some prepubescent teenager's favourite semi-famous pop star. In fact, that face is far from detailed, considering it lacks eyes and any other facial features that could easily give away who it is. It is, however, the silhouette of someone who was in one way or another semi-famous, at least in the field of philosophy. I know, I know, not the biggest difference, except that choosing an intellectual sounds less immature to get inked on my arm for the rest of my life and beyond. Before you go and judge me though, please read this long a$$ explanation first.
I have been interested in philosophy for quite a while now. Existentialism used to fuel my desire to find meaning in life, to find who I am and what role I would play throughout life. I was convinced that the only reason why we hadn't been able to find the meaning of life yet, was because our human brain is simply too limited to think of such a task that is so much greater than us. I still remember that my plan was to interview different kinds of people, asking them the same questions about what makes them happy and what they value, in order to find the answer to this unanswerable question. To seek this meaning was more than just a little poetic to me and it felt quite important, but I soon found out that it wouldn't be as easy as just talking to a few people - which is, however, not the reason why I gave up. I simply realised that seeking a meaning contradicts with the non-existence of a meaning.
I started out with classic and well-known philosophers such as Sokrates and Plato, then Sartre, Nietzsche, Michael de Montaigne and several others. Like a lot of wannabe philosophers, I had to go through the stages of nihilism. When I realised that there is no fixed meaning in a universe that's completely indifferent to us, first I fell into this deep and dark hole of hopelessness. Where could I find the motivation to do anything, when it would be so absolutely insigifnicant anyway? One of the options I was left with was suicide, but life was way too pleasurable to just end it, plus that there was always my horrifying fear of death and nothingness that prevented me from any further considerations to avoid my existential problem. In nihilism, one also refers to philosophical suicide. Which is when one for example believes in God and finds one's significance and value in life through faith. The same applies to people joining a cult or a movement. This is, however, another way of trying to escape from the problem that surrounds man's futile search for meaning in a meaningless universe, and was therefore not the approach I wanted to take.
The last option, however, would be acceptance, and this is where Albert Camus introduced me to absurdism. He taught me to be aware of the absurdity of life, and that there lies a freedom within this. One should accept and embrace it, rather than letting it drag one down, letting us feel as if everything needs a reason or purpose in order to exist. As soon as one accepts that the world is a void of absolute, we have the freedom to create our own meaning and purpose in life.
"The Absurd Hero accepts and acknowledges the absurdity of life, and embraces the freedom that lies within"
In this case, however, it is important to remember that it's not necessarily reaching the goal itself that's important, but the simple act of trying to reach that goal. Absurdism encourages one to live in spite of this absurdity, rebel against the human condition of purposelessness and let this set us free. I find it somehow relieving to know that no matter what happens, no matter what I do, it is only as meaningful and valuable as I allow it to be. Since there is no greater purpose, and we are so perfectly insignificant, we get the chance to explore our true nature, our desires that are currently suppressed by the expectations that we are meant to be something greater, or that there lies more responsibility in our existence. This way, we can focus more on making life, which is already full of suffering, more bearable.
"Become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion"
So yes, I did tattoo a man's face on my arm. But I also tattooed a daily reminder on my forearm. It's a reminder of who influenced me in my way of living and thinking, who I really am or at least strive to become. It reminds me to rebel against the absurdity of life in order to become as happy as possible and most importantly: To not give more f*cks than actually needed.