Today, I spilled ink all over my hands.
Keep in mind, I used premium crap—I don’t buy poor quality ink. This is a good thing for paper, but a bad thing for hands.
Wash, wash, wash.
Scrub, scrub, scrub.
The ink is still there.
The ink is of such high quality that it has essentially tattooed itself onto my hands.
The only way my hands will return to their natural white and freckled color is by way of eliminating the top 2 layers of skin.
This requires days of sanding down my hands with 20 grit sandpaper—the same stuff I use for woodworking—very coarse stuff—basically just sharp pebbles glued to a piece of paper.
I wish I could peel off specific layers of my skin and deliberately regrow them immediately. Of course, it’d require extreme concentration. I’d probably close my eyes in concentration, grunt, and then I’d be able to sprout a new layer of skin, sighing with relief.
Why can’t we do this? As a species, we should’ve figured out a way to manipulate our own bodies through concentration by now.
We have the ability to install 5G technology in our cellphones, but we still don’t have the power of telekinesis?
I don’t buy it.
Until next time,
Michael J. Erickson, CEO & Co-Founder
