Thursday, September 8, 2011


I never wanted to be a DEA agent.
I'd rather be a neutered cat.
At least I'd be mystical to humans,
and chase invisible entities, without harming them.
Of course, there would be the occasional dead mouse...
but I would proudly present it to my master as a gift.
My human nature easily assumes non-responsibility for my actions.
Maybe I could be a has-been race horse.
I'd be well-groomed, kept in a nice warm stable,
and loved because of money won for my owners.
I'd relish the glories of my past.
Sometimes I visualize myself as a talented writer,
worthy of a Citizen Kane type estate.
Usually, I discard this notion promptly from my mind.
I do see my lifetime successes and goals in animated frames.
I'd like to be a famous baseball or football player, marathon runner,
or any other number of "Walter Mitty type" heroes.
These inspirations are created by the panoramic views of my mind.
I am Sir Galahad, Don Quixote, James Dean, or Clint Eastwood.
Most of the time, I'm just me, a regular Joe.
I have to admit though, pretending is more fun.
I vow to never give up my childish dreams.
They are refined now, and appear at the IMAX movie theatre inside my head.
I hope my rainbows increase in beauty and intensity.
I want to remain child-like, 'til the end.

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