Another lopsided entry from yours truly

I want to be nice. I want people to come to me for advice. Without warning, send a gift. Look people in the eye without a grimace. I want to be smiling and graceful. Be present and grateful.

I do not want to be obsessive, looking for redemption. I do not want to worry constantly, finding no silver lining.

I want to be whole in my body. I want to see reality. This is no time for whining. I want to be perfect, but not superficial. I want to know more facts about politics, without being bitter with ignorance.

I do not want to be ignored, although it might be futile to implore. I do not want to be selfish, although this might again be out of my realm of ability.

I want to face the world without fearing it, and find my place to fit into all this.

I do not want to self-sabotage, reeking of the wrong prerogatives.

I want to be sane, not depressed or angry. I want to feel the sun on my skin and be happy.

Above all, I want to write good poetry, and feel the warmth of my words on the mouths and minds of others, fitting into this mess I call my writing.