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Wish

I didn’t want to be conventional. I didn’t want to be married. I wanted to continue living in sin.

I don’t want to have a baby. I don’t want to bring up any children. I don’t want to be a mother.

I don’t want to ask for approval.

I don’t want to need people.

I don’t want to lose my temper, my art, or my self esteem.

I don’t want to feel upset, or restless, or hungry.

I don’t want to be patronizing, or smug, or rude.

 

I don’t want to get caught up in the net of respectability. Or the drudgery of chores. Or the necessity to keep face.

I don’t want to be pulled down lanes of regret.

I don’t want a blank mind.

I don’t want to miss the fun.

I don’t want to be in the thick of other people’s things. I don’t want to be on the edge of my life.

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5 thoughts on “Wish

  1. Pingback: In Augusts past « inktales

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