13.9.09

11:11 lasts forever.

A friend once wrote that she makes her own wishes come true.
I think she's a closet cynic.

Or maybe she's just more empowered than I am, waiting for a fairy godmother to save me. But I can't help it.

Every night that I see my star, every feather or dandelion I find, I make a wish. Sometimes I make a wish when I see a striking sunset or hear a moving song. I make wishes in the middle of conversations, when I see candles burning, when I close my eyes.

Counterintuitive as it is, wishing for me is a way of expressing contentment. If I close my eyes and think about something I'll never have, I'll never have to stop. I can wish and wish and nothing will happen, nothing will change.
It's a way to preserve the moment.


I understand that decisions and actions shape the future, and what happens is directly correlated with what you did to make it happen. I understand this, and I know my friend was probably right, but I can't help wishing it were otherwise.
A girl can dream.

1 comment:

  1. I totally agree. I admire go-getters enormously, but I think that in our society we really undervalue a little bit of idle reverie. Case in point: my mother. She's so devastatingly practical, bless her, that I can't ever mention a dream or possibility without her either shooting it down or making sure it happens. I think that those practical, go-getter types are easily disappointed, and don't always understand that for dreamy types like us the fun is not in the victory. We know that it's only pretend, but the key to make-believe is not to break the illusion.

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