Sometimes I Just Want

To fly through the sky, carefree, in freedom.
To heal anyone of anything.
To know, understand, and be able to communicate in every language.
To sing well enough to make other people cry.
To leap through the air like a dancer.
To skip and not worry if I look absurd.
To play, mingling imagination and reality like a child.
To run at full speed, for as long as I want to.
To hide anywhere by fading into my surroundings.
To huddle, warm and cozy, by a fire.
To sleep in total comfort, with sweet, sweet dreams.
To stomp my feet and get my way.
To scream in frustration.
To cry, giving meaning to feelings of helplessness.
To read great books for days and days.
To write better… much, much better.
To articulate the half-formed thoughts that escape so easily.
To inspire others to think and ask questions and wonder and care.
To be more courageous.
To take a risk.
To trust.
To loathe.
To feel more comfortable in my own skin.
To be graceful.
To be awkward.
To shake someone and scream “what is WRONG with you?”.
To pick a fight, for no real reason.
To hear laughter.
To take off and be by myself for a couple of weeks.
To have superhero tools, especially the lasso of truth.
To have a teleportation device.
To have a time machine.
To have a holodeck.
To have a device that could make anything out of anything -free.
To have enough money never to have to think of it again.
To never have to clean anything but my own body.
To travel safely and comfortably – anywhere.
To open everyone’s eyes – including my own.
To have a working magic wand.
To suddenly notice that I’m happy.
To have a good tree to climb.
To go on a ferris wheel.
To go ice-skating.
To go skiing.
To go camping.
To be wise.
To be silly.
To be fun.
To be frivolous.
To be loving.
To be loved.
To be cruel.
To be petulant.
To be unreasonable.
To be logical.
To be disciplined.
To be unfettered.
To be irresistible.
To say exactly what I’m thinking.
To be completely selfish.
To be sweet, for no particular reason.
To live in that happy spot between desire and ego-lessness.
To find the ideal balance between order and chaos.
To be left alone.
To get attention.
To slap someone right across the face.
To do something meaningful with my insights before I forget them.
To have something more than insight.
To see for miles and miles.
To let go and trust the cosmos.
To float downstream.
To laugh naturally, untainted by any history.
To dream vividly, in color, and with all my senses, and remember everything.
To be able to play any music I’ve ever heard or can imagine, and on any instrument.
To experience the world in terms of wonder.
To create visual works of art that turn out just the way I imagine them.
To kiss and be kissed – with passion and tenderness.
To be held and comforted.
To believe that everything will be all right.
To make love for hours and hours.
To hold hands and walk together.
To talk for hours about everything and nothing.
To be more likable.
To be witty.
To be as bitchy and cantankerous as I please.
To be sneaky and sly.
To throw down the gauntlet.
To do the dozens.
To alphabetize my books.
To find the book I was looking for.
To remember the perfect word for that.
To know everyone’s name.
To make everything all better.
To have a plan.
To see real justice in real life.
To feel sorry for myself.
To feel sorry for someone else.
To always look like I was exactly 28, but live forever.
To talk to God, and get it, and like it.
To confer with the minor deities, and emerge unscathed.
To discover the perfect energy source.
To discover the cure for greed.
To read – at will – anyone’s thoughts.
To live in a more civilized and caring country.
To have friends in all the imaginary kingdoms, but no foes.
To die.
To really live.
To be immortal.
To understand and forgive.
To hold a grudge like it was a piece of treasure.
To be more realistic and pragmatic.
To keep an even keel.
To keep a stiff upper lip.
To keep my cool.
To express everything.
To be silent.