It'll be around five more months before I turn eighteen, and start looking into tattoo parlors for the right tattooist to engrave his ink into my skin. Some people find tattoo graffiti for the body, which may be so, but I've always found graffiti quite admirable.

There have been many things that I've gone through in my life that have caused great hardship for me, and etched itself into the person that I am today. I cannot go back, I cannot become the person I once was, but I can strive to become me, to guide who I will become in the future. I can't say that I've pushed myself through the hardships, but got up every day regardless of the outcomes. I have given up at times, admittedly there have been months of just giving up. Just nothing except breathing, getting up, going back to bed. Repeat.

I have been studying Japanese for five years now, and I'll always continue to learn it. I am not certain if I will ever become fluent, or visit it's motherland, but it means a lot to me. It fits so well inside myself th


at I doubt I can ever let it go. Over the years I have dropped a lot of my passions, but I've never had the heart to drop my studies in the Japanese language.

I cannot remember where I first saw the kanji, or what struck me about it so that it sparked the need to have it engraved on my skin, like all my past discrepancies have been engraved on my heart. I wanted it somewhere inconspicuous, somewhere only the observant eye would notice. That's when I decided I wanted the "chikara" kanji tattooed on the back of my neck.

"Chikara" is sometimes defined as "power", but it's true meaning is more closely translated to "strength" or "effort". I'm not sure if I could say I have much strength, but the effort of getting up to see the day ahead of me, no matter how weary I was of the sky outside my window, describes who I am, or who I ought to be.