I want, I want, I want… why is it such a bad thing? It’s alright to want things as long as they’re good things.
On Saturday morning, I want to get up early, switch on the TV and watch the good old 90s cartoon shows. Tom and Jerry, Looney Tunes, The Road Runner, Sylvester and Tweetie, Mickey Mouse… I could go on. I mean the old cartoons, the ones in lack-lustre colour because they didn’t need vivid visuals to make me fall in love with them.
When I’m lying in bed, I want to not have the option to sit on my laptop, enjoying the advantage of WiFi, because maybe, just maybe that way I’d have some reason to go out and breathe some fresh air.
And for when I really do feel lazy, I want to play video games on my PS2 and Gameboy not the Wii. The whole point of video games is to be a couch potato right? Not to exercise.
And when I feel bored of virtual games, I want to play on the street again, even if most of the times I did were to play some form of an imaginary game.
When I’m at university, I want friends who don’t feel the need to check their phones every damned second like something earth-shattering were about to happen. I want us to have technology-free conversations. I know they call them social media apps but it seems to defy the purpose when you’ve got perfectly good real live people sitting right next to you, don’t you think?
I want the Chain Smokers to stop making music (or whatever it is they call it because Selfie sure wasn’t a song, it was talking over a beat.)
I want sitcoms to make a real come back because god knows I’m tired of watching ridiculous reality TV featuring self-involved bimbos like the Kardashians.
I want to thank the people I’ve never met but who’ve influenced my life. Someone had left a copy of the Book Thief on a British Airways plane and it passed down from my friend’s aunt who worked for the airline, to my friend and then to me, because she knew I was looking at that very book in the shop the other day. I want to tell him or her that their book is in the right hands and that I’m taking good care of it. And thank you.
I want to tell that one elderly man who wrote a handwritten letter to the newspaper I interned at that it’s okay he didn’t send it in his opinion by email. He actually wrote a p.s in the end saying, ” I’m sorry I could only send this by mail as I do not have any knowledge about computers and did not want to learn at the age of 87.” It’s okay, Mister.
I want a dog to scoop the poop after because canines are the best friends you’ll ever have. You know it’s true.
I want to be able to cook, make all my favourites like lasagna, cake and biryani. Food…
That’s not too much right?