I want to do a little of everything
- Dia Mehta
- Oct 9, 2023
- 2 min read

I want to be a little of everything.
I want to love the daylight
as much as I love the starry skies.
I wish to enjoy the warm summer feeling
as much as I enjoy the comfort and coziness
of the warmness we create on a winter night.
I want to lie down on the green grass
and stare into the nothingness of everything
that the sky holds,
enjoy the blueness in its open free self
with silhouettes of half-naked trees
like a canvas
holding the stillness of this moment.
I want to enjoy the smell of a bookshelf
with books categorized perfectly,
organized neatly.
And that one catches your attention
among the multitude,
the one you have wanted for a long time,
and you can see what book
another wandering reader might have touched
because of how differently it is kept from the rest.
I want to get lost in the verses of songs
and relate to them like they were written for me.
All of them, the one about love,
and the one that makes you feel loved,
and the light that shines through the darkness,
and being the light yourself,
and words that you forgot to mention,
and the time you said too much,
and when you were overthinking,
and when you were robbed of your thoughts,
and the one where you feel doubtful,
and the one that makes you feel so certain about everything,
and the one that comforts you on days
when you don’t feel like yourself anymore,
and the one that you forget about
but remember occasionally
when you need it the most.
I want to stay up consuming stories
that stir an emotion in me
to the extent that the night becomes sleepless.
I want to be lost in the thoughts of
how that could ever happen,
or what I would have done if it was me.
I want to be able to think,
and think deeper,
and think so much that it inspires me
to hover my hands above the keypad,
with language flowing
as if a bleeding wound was ripped of its bandage.
I want to think like the character,
or better yet, the writer
that made this occasional thinker
have one such occasion
of sudden overflowing epiphanies.
6/04/2022, 9:09 a.m.



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