Wednesday, January 12, 2011

W for wishes.

I'd love to be famous someday, to walk past a group of people and be recognised. To have people crave to know me, to have people dream of becoming me.
I want to breeze into a room and be the centre of attraction, to have hunks ogle me and beauties envy me.
I want to walk past a newspaper stall and gawk at the picture perfect me staring back from the frontpage of a magazine.
I'd love to be famous someday, then maybe my family will respect me enough to cut me some slack, and allow me make decisions for myself.
I want to dine with the women who display their assets in an ostentatious fashion, and the men who ridicule people from the other social class.
I want to be stuck in traffic inside a limo with Bruno Mars, Mariah Carey and Staccie Orrico. I want to be included on the VIP list of every important social engagement and not make an appearance.
I'd love to be famous someday, then maybe you would think me a worthy partner, fit to be introduced to the homeboys. Then maybe you would look at me and see a woman, one you could be proud of.

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