I want my life to matter profoundly. I want to be an exemplar people will misinterpret for years to come. I want to make converts with schemes heretofore unseen by human eyes. I want to strain under a pen that is constantly watched. I want all the lies you have crumpled in your closet handed to me in a laundry bin so I can wash and press them.
I want the weight of the world and a vision of the heavens. I want to transcend the honest man's labor and receive its blessings by proxy. I want purple to be the color of my carpet, on all walkways, stairs and thoroughfares.
I want to be the host of a game show that undermines capitalism. I want sequoias in my backyard half the year, and rabid followers from May to November. I want to be a brand I have no control over with no freedom to show for it.
I want a host of disciples that can carry three octaves each and whistle a healthy vibrato. I want the apocalypse to caress my hips and hold the last rose at my funeral. I want you but better, me but brighter, him but smarter and her but lucid.
I want impossible essentials. I want the word God retired or at least dry-cleaned. I want in its place a new word we take out for special occasions, universally understood as above reproach. I want eternal goodness back in the conversation.
I want ceaselessly for the water that refreshes. I want carelessly, trading presents for airy futures. I want, helplessly, to get the sky on my level by bringing it all to the ground.
I need you to stop me by stopping yourselves, just for a moment, so I can stop and listen.
About Me, 2010
About Me, 2009
About Me, 2008
About Me, 2007