Commentary and Philosophy Non-Fiction posted July 15, 2012

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My Next Life

by Realist101

If I'm lucky enough to get a do-over for this conundrum we call life, I'm going to demand, in no uncertain terms, that I be allowed to cut in line and receive a better brain. I want to be smart. Not just able to balance a checkbook smart. I want to be able to do calculus. I will demand I have wit. And the ability to carry on clever conversation. I want to Invent things that will sell like hotcakes. I want to be intelligent enough to know when to quit while I'm ahead. To be smart enough to come in out of the damn rain.

The icing on the cake would be to keep the artistic side of me as well. I want BOTH sides of my brain to work ... and more than just this ordinary ten percent. I want one-hundred percent capacity. So much smarts that I would earn millions. Enough money that I could afford to donate to all the charities and never miss a dime. I want it all ... I want everything, the next time around.

I want to look like a Barbie doll. I want the privileges of 'looks'. I'm tired of being a wall flower. An invisible nobody, who can't even get a doctor to care if I live or die. I want to be the type that no one dare harass. Yes, I want power, in my next life.

I want movie contracts. Books written about me. I want a man to worship, and I mean worSHIP--the ground I walk on. I want real love. I want R.E.S.P.E.C.T. ... I want it all, the next time around.

I'm up to my proverbial gills with strife. The constant bickering over who works the hardest. Who brings home the bacon. Who owns that ... who needs this, and who deserves what. Stress would be foreign to me in my next life. I'm sick of living one day at a time, with no hope for comfort in my last years. I want perfect health my next time around--perfect everything.

I'm sick of everyone who stabs me in the back. Cuts me down. And wipes their feet on my feelings. In my next life, I would desire that those who try to hurt me, cannot. No matter how hard they try. No matter what they say, or do. I would want the ability to be so happy, that words could never hurt me. And that sticks and stones would be reflected from me by burly body guards. I want to be safe. But not at the expense of what we call our liberties.

In my next life, I want to be important enough to be missed when I die. Missed because I was not only lovely, but kind. I want to be an ambassador ... able to help the people around the world, who can't help themselves. I would want nuns to ask for my help, and the energy to do the things that need doing.

I would also demand more talent. The ability to give a good speech. To be an actress. More, more, more ... I would have strangers cry at the sight of me as I sang like an angel. I would need an entourage. I want it all, if I live another life.

Most of all ... more than anything--the next time around, I want to be able to be at peace with myself. I want to get it right.

But just what if ... what if the life we now have, is our last, and only chance? What if this really is, as good as it's ever going to be? What if this is as good as it gets?


Inspired by the movie starring Jack Nicholson, "As Good As It Gets". I know, I'm so full of it. Just daydreaming/ranting some more. Thank you for reading and to Google Images for the Barbie doll.
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