You try to pull the blanket off of yourself, and you realize that, it too, is made of chocolate. You try to shake it off, and step out of bed. Your carpet feels strangely spongy. You look down, only to realize it’s actually cake. Lovingly baked, and smelling of sweet fruit. You grab a piece, and cautiously take a bite. It is one of the most delicious cakes you have ever eaten.

You get up, confused, and exit your room to see if the rest of your house is like this. The door handle melts in your hand as you hold onto it, and covers it with dark chocolate carefully painted gold. The rest of the carpet on the floor is still cake, the guardrails on the stairs leading down are tempered chocolate, the tiles on the floor are the same, the windows are sugar glass, everything is edible.

You run outside, knocking over the lovingly crafted chocolate front door in a panic.

You realize, in horror, that your house was not an exception. The bushes, the grass, the asphalt on the road, the trees, birds, the world itself, is chocolate.

for the longest time my goals have been so blurry that they track into each other, their undefined edges slipping quietly back into the soft night. today i want to be a writer; tomorrow i will want to be a doctor, later i will wish i took that law school free ride. how the fuck do people just know what they want to do with their life?

where do you want to be in five years? i want to be alive; which is a huge step for me. ten years ago i would have said i want to be asleep and meant i hope that i'm dead by then.

but i want a yellow kitchen and a stand mixer. i want a garden and a fruit tree (cherry, if i can make that happen) and a big yard for my dogs to play in. i want to come home and read poetry out loud to someone and have them close their eyes to listen. i want a summer watergun fight. i want to make snowmen. i want to be the house to go to for halloween. i want my life to settle around me in a softness, for it to lay down gently. if i am very, very, very lucky, i want to travel; finally go someplace overseas.

of course i don't know what i want to be doing professionally. what i actually want to be doing is curling up beside my dog, settling in to read. i want to be making myself a cup of good coffee.

i can't answer the other questions. whenever people asked me what do you want to be when you grow up, i used to say i hope i'm happy.

i hope i'm still kind, five years from now. i hope i never get jaded and mean. i hope i have stayed in therapy. what do you picture yourself doing? when will you actually be an adult about this? why are you so afraid of being ambitious?

In my AP Art class, there was a girl who was just starting to experiment with mixed media. At this point she was still playing around, trying to decide what direction she wanted to go with her portfolio. So one critique day, she brought in an abstract canvas with some rhinestone highlights and painted and real peacock feathers. She loved sparkles and peacock feathers so she thought she’d try introducing them a *little*. And after everyone had given some input, the teacher gave her his advice, VERY roughly paraphrased here:

“So here’s the thing… I do not like this style. These are just elements that do not speak to me personally, but I see that you like them, and you’re doing interesting things with them.

“My biggest critique is, I only merely *dislike* this piece. I want you to make me HATE it. Go crazy with the things that you like. Don’t hold back trying to make it palatable to people like me. Because I am NEVER going to like it. And if the audience does not like it, it should drive them crazy seeing how much YOU love it.”

Her portfolio was chock full of neon colors and glitter and rhinestones and splashes of peacock feathers and it was a delight. Our teacher despised every piece lol, but she got great marks and I think even won some awards. And more importantly, she was happy and proud of the results. Because she didn’t limit herself by trying to appeal to people who were never going to enjoy what she enjoyed.

You don't owe anyone anything

Meaning: you do not have to make yourself suffer for the convenience of others

We owe each other everything

Meaning: we could not survive without each other and everything we do to help another is crucial to ensuring our own continued survival