Tuesday, December 20, 2005

randomness sixty-nine...

i think it's important that when a child tells you their dreams that you believe in them too.

like if they say, "when i grow up i'm going to move to ireland." you say, "and when you live in ireland i'm going to come visit you."

when my mom was little she would name her dreams and her people would say, "you're not going anywhere. get your shit together, girl. you're staying right here with the rest of us and you'll get married (if you're lucky) and that'll be your life. forget all these silly pipe dreams."

and look at her now. she forgot them alright.

or maybe what's worse, she didn't forget them, she just gave up on them because everyone else told her she had to.

she may have fucked me over in many ways but she always believed me when i told her my dreams. i'd say, "when i grow up i'm going to live in a big city and lots and lots of people will know me." and she would say, "good. make it a big city somewhere warm though, because i'm tired of freezing my fucking ass off at christmas."

she never said anything like, "come on, girl, be realistic. you'll get married and squeeze out some kids or die sad and alone and wish your life had turned out different just like everybody else."

even to this day i say, "i've got to figure out what i'm going to do. i just want to see myself in print; to know that someone else thinks people should read me."

and she always answers, "i can't wait until you're published either. we sure could use the money, huh? and we'll show those fuckwads then," she'll say, "won't we?"

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