I wish I could see the future.

I wish I could worry less.

I wish the world could be more caring.

I wish I could see farther beyond me.

I wish for the health of friends.

I wish I were better at making friends know how much I value them. I wish I were less impatient. I wish I were less snarky. I wish others could understand the difference between the nod to what’s real and non-positivism. I wish I were a better typist. I wish I were a better writer. I wish the words would come to me more easily. I wish things were less complicated. I wish people understood how age-ist they really are. I wish for love. I wish for it to last. I wish for the small realization of the acknowledgement I work so hard for. I wish for the next thing. I wish for fewer agendas. I wish for less of less. I don’t wish for more of more.

I wish to sleep for a week. And to write in every moment I am awake.

And I wish for Friday. Good–one wish granted. Now let’s get to work on the rest of them….

 

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