i want youthful vibrancy and an aged attention span.
i want to accept a compliment without thinking there are suspicious undertones clawing at it, making me look stupid. some people just like you and want to tell you. things can be very simple.
i want to give a man a dollar and not have the back of my head regretting that decision. the hard luck story blurs so often with the hard sell line that it turns you into a monster. the first time you realize you have been swindled from generosity is a permanent scar. someone took something from you and it wasn’t just that dollar. they reached through your rib cage, pulled something out of your body that you didn’t know was in there, but once it’s gone you miss it. the confident charity. the feeling you are helping somebody without a second thought of them helping themselves to a sucker. i want that back. you can keep the dollar, but just give me my innocence back.
i want the mystery that the internet killed, back. you give all of yourself away in a textual fashion, and then wonder why no one wants the human version. an online presence doesn’t mean you are present. you are playing a character, resembling the person you think you are. leave just a little string, somebody will eventually tug on it, leading them to your front door.
i want a beer, a big plate of chicken strips, and a cigarette. in that order. i am good after that.
i want dialogue and opinions and discussion. that is healthy. this a dance, and done right, is fluid and graceful. it is when you forget the steps, add steps when they are not needed or are of no importance to your partner, or try to overcompensate by unearthing loud, obnoxious, stepping on toes footwork that it turns into a complete collapse of movement. know when to lead, and know when to follow. your partner needs to know the same. or not, maybe you like to dance that way. it’s none of my business.
i want kids. i do not want to sit and watch while everything beautiful that beautiful child holds on to, gets ripped from their hands by peers, enemies, even myself, and then have to explain to them how awful the world actually is, and then spend the rest of my life watching him or her struggle to roam around trying to pick it all back up again, while not dropping what they managed to clench their fists around. it would break my heart to have my child think and act like i did.
i want to work with time, not against it. i know most hours are used up in obligation and responsibility. that has to be accepted and agreed upon before you can truly appreciate those minutes that are yours and yours alone.
i want bad things to happen to people who deserve to have bad thing happen to them. i truly refuse to believe that makes me, a bad person. i truly believe, that i am a good person.
i want less.
i want the same for you.
things would be better.
