i am stubborn. i am unchangeable. i am rebellious. i am unique. i am fragile.

i am stubborn; the essence of being stubborn- being difficult to handle, to manage. am i supposed to be manageable? to manage something is to control it, to have it under one's power, completely regulated and restricted. you do not want to manage me, for i am stubborn. you cannot handle me; not because i am too much for you, and not because i have gone mad, but because i stand for something and i will not betray my beliefs. i stand for something very few respect presently. i stand for an idea, that once was an actual practice, but in fact remains solely an idea. i am stubborn. 

i am unchangeable; plain. simple. exactly as it seems. i am not unchangeable due to my stubbornness. i am unchangeable due to my familiarity of myself. i am who i created myself to be, i have been this self forever. no matter how much you try to shape and mold me, i shall return to who i know myself to be, it is if fact all that i know. 

i am rebellious; i will tell you now that my rebellion is different from the acts that you are most likely used to witnessing. i do not rebel against war, 'the man', unequal rights, etc. i rebel against what is becoming of those around me. i do not wish to be a clone of what i see. though i love each and every one of my peers dearly and deeply, i do not wish to be one in the same. i am me and i will forever be all that i know. rebellious? well that's how it seems. 

i am unique; just like everyone else. i believe i can make a difference, just like everyone else. i believe i am different, i believe i am stubborn, i believe i am special, i am new, i am change yet unchangeable, i am a light to someone's darkness, an open arm to someone's weeping heart, and an answer to someone's confusion; just like everyone else. i do not wish to please you, nor prove to you that i am unique, because you as well as others have a standard. i am not entirely sure that i will ever meet this standard of yours, and i am content. i am content in knowing that i am unique, no matter how you feel.

i am fragile; please do not let my concrete visage fool you. i am only as strong as my weakest link. and my friend, you must know, my heart is as weak as ever, however the wall around it has never been stronger. although i am fragile, there's one thing you must know, you cannot break me. for i am stubborn, unchangeable, rebellious and unique; and not for one second will you fool me into believing different. 

KJC

.blind love.

when i was young i was taught that love is undefined; that love is unexplainable; that love is blind. as i've grown i've come to realize that it is undefined because there is no answer to what it truly is. no one wants to say that love is heartache, love is sleepless nights and stressful days. why do we want it? love is unexplained, not because it is indescribable but because no one will admit that there are hardships, there are tasks that not many want to take on, but mostly, its unexplainable because very few will ever know absolute love. they do not want to go through the pain to find it. Now, love is blind? is it no wonder? love is not blind because it can see past flaws, and love is not blind because it seeks only inner beauty. no, love has become blind so that we may settle. love became blind because we could not see ourselves deserving of what is rightfully ours. is that love? no. love is pain, love is agony, love is conscious and wide-eyed to all details. because to love, to feel pain, and to see clearly sounds almost too good to be true compared to an unscathed heart, habitual days and blinded, glazed eyes. 

KJC

.:my fault:.

my heart never healed from when you left. you let me get close to you. you let me feel secure. its your fault i can't feel. its your fault i can't trust. its your fault my tears have dried. its your fault my pain has turned numb. its your fault my heart will never

race. its your fault i walk this world blinded. but its all my fault; i let you in. 
KJC

.:painful beauty.beautiful pain:.

it has been said that beauty is only skin deep.. how about pain? pain burrows through my veins. it has also been said that pain is beauty. could it be that we cause pain in the search of beauty when in reality our beauty is how we push through our pain? or is our beauty the journey and knowledge we gain is search of fictitious and materialized beauty?

ticktock.

waiting is the hardest part of life. living in constant anticipation of how things will line up. but once we actually finish waiting, it feels like it was gone in the blink of an eye. make sure what you're waiting on is worth it, because who knows how long you'll wait for nothing. 

.

sitting in a world where no one knows but you. your story is not yet shared. when your world is crumbling all around, their wind still cools, their laughter is still heard, their hearts still beat; yet all you feel, hear and see is numb. all senses shut off for mere seconds. will they ever feel you? will they ever know? they won't. they will still return the empty smile you loan out. but maybe, just maybe, their world is similar to the remains in the rubble as yours is. maybe, just maybe, they understand too. but you will never know, for you left them with a generic greeting indicating nothing other than you acknowledge their presence. 

dreams...

why are aspirations called dreams? dreams happen in the unconscious state. dreams occur without control. dreams are a faded thought. are they called dreams because they do actually occur without control; or does the effort put forth actually affect the outcome? or are they called dreams because they are mythical and unattainable? they can't be, because people have reached further beyond their dreams before...

everyday that passes is another wasted. a wasted opportunity, a wasted moment; just time not used to benefit the goal of reaching the unattainable. 

most questions i ask are open ended.. who will i be? how many people will i inspire, hurt, or affect in general? why can't my questions be answered? hm. ironic. 

sometimes a question is the only answer... but does it matter? or is the point of life to continue searching for that answer to keep you alive? because only when you find it is your time truly up. if you no longer ask, search or wonder... well is there even a point?