Everybody wants things. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.
Me, I want to live someplace that actually has four different seasons. One of the sayings about Texas is that we have Almost Summer, Summer, Still Summer, and Christmas. Down in the Rio Grande Valley, we have Hell, Gehenna, Inferno, and Damnit, I’m Wearing A Sweater Even Though I Turn Purple and Pass Out From Heat Stroke.
I want snow. I want leaves that change colours.
I desperately want to do well enough with my books that I can, y’know, move somewhere with seasons. And travel. Maybe not right now, but someday, when I turn into the awesome old lady I’m going to be. I want to see Jerusalem and Warsaw and Machu Picchu. And everything else, actually.
I want to fix things, make a difference, not be forgotten. If I could save a life, feed a child, teach a woman to read… Yes.
I want to be more than I am.
I suppose that the problem is that I spend more time dreaming than doing. I think that’s everyone’s problem. I mean, I’m not into that Disney “dreams come true” stuff, but you’re a lot more likely to get there if you work for it. Culmination of a lifetime of bad habits: I go nowhere. Wanting isn’t enough.
I’m not really sure what’s up with that post. Here, have some sunflowers.