I want what I want

I want…
I want to be rich and have a lot of money. With lots of books and clothes and fuck loads of diamonds. I want a big flashy house with the biggest library in the centre. With classic and ancient literature. And old novels and new novels and war books and history books and mythology books. I want my huge house to be surrounded by gardens. Sculpture gardens. And orchards and wineries and it must have great weather and thunderstorms. And there must be a beach. A beach with pale yellow sand and crimson crabs that scuttle away at your approach. And aqua a sea perfect for snorkelling. And I want it to be on a Greek island. Yeah, I want a Greek island and fuck loads of diamonds.
But maybe I want…
Maybe want a little one room apartment in the big city. And my apartment must have a balcony so that I can watch the little people going on with their everyday lives, completely unaware of a girl watching them from above. It must be u so high that I can see the skyscrapers light up and glow in the night, but close enough to the ground so that I can hear the city ticking by below when I go to sleep. So that I can hear the taxis and the cars going about their business as if it were as bright as day. And all below my one room apartment I want there to be little bookshops with kind owners with stories to tell me. And I want to walk past my other occupants and say good morning every morning without ever knowing their names.
Or perhaps I want…
I want a little house above a music and records store. And I would work in this store in this small suburban town where everybody knows everybody and even if you don’t know them you’ll act like you do. A little place where I can live of spaghetti and coke for the rest of my life. And I would have home-made pieces of artworks fluttering about the walls and I would listen to obnoxiously loud music and nobody would care. I would be the girl who lives above the music store. And the owner of the store would be my best friend that always seemed to have warm drinks around the place. And the drama ps of my life would keep my unendingly entertained and I would also probably live with one of my sisters.
But then again…
I want a tiny ramshackle shack in the middle of nowhere. Surrounded by the bush where you have to drive for six hours to get Macdonald’s. And their would be no people, just me and the birds living silently but happily. And I would want my paints to be there, so that I can go out and explore my land of nowhere. I would go out from time to time, searching for friendship or maybe even courtship.

I would love to live these scenarios but they are all missing the things that the others have. What one doesn’t have the other three possess. I can’t put my loud music on a Greek island in my huge house, it just doesn’t fit. And I can have millions of books in my house above the music store, that doesn’t fit either. When I find my place where all of the things I value most I will settle but until then I will go from place to place depending on what mood I’m in.
(Despite all that the likelihood that idea that I will ever settle is propitious, for I am not exactly the most settled soul, but grounded I am)

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One comment

  1. Rachel · November 15, 2013

    Fantastically evocative writing, Clem. It got me thinking about my dream home and it would certainly need to have audible crashing waves and a big library. Not sure what else yet…but I’ll let you know when I come up with it. I can probably live without a fuck load of diamonds- I think they’re over-rated. For a while, I did daydream about living in a flat above a shop. I can see the appeal of that. Tim says to tell you that you might have another flood of comments from his class- he’s hoping to get them writing something based on your piece, which he also loved. Please keep writing.

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