When I grow up, I hope to be a figure skater or a classical violinist or a neurosurgeon or a biostatistician or a clown.
When I grow up, I hope that I do something that makes me feel like I’m helping something, maybe helping someone cheer up or feel entertained or get better or understand something better.
When I grow up, I hope that I will have figured out religion. I hope that I will not be at war with myself over what is right and wrong, and I hope I will have figured out some dogma that makes sense to me, that makes me feel that good feeling that religion makes so many feel, that they are part of something larger than themselves.
When I grow up, maybe I will understand the allure of Game of Thrones.
When I grow up, I hope that I will have found love, and that he will make me smile and laugh every day and that I will be able to listen to him for hours upon hours without once looking at the time. I hope that he’s the kind of man who will bring me flowers for no reason, and who will cook with me.
When I grow up, I hope that I am still reading. I hope that I read books upon books upon books and that my mind is sharp because I still question things and I’m still always thinking the way I am always thinking now. I hope that I read all the classics that I have always meant to read but never got around to it-- Jane Eyre, The Color Purple, The Lord of the Rings.
When I grow up, I hope I recycle. I hope I run into some terrible problem that makes me care about recycling. I always recycle in front of people, but I also throw cigarettes out of the car window and throw soda cans into the trash can when I am alone.
When I grow up, I hope that I am brave enough to stay still, because maybe I haven’t grown up yet because I just keep on moving, changing, morphing. How did everyone else quench their curiosities?
Leave a Reply.
The goal: Release the inner creator. The means: Write 365 words a day in any genre (fiction, non-fiction, poetry, theatre) for 365 days and make the work public.