“I want to be famous.”
Is what I used to tell my parents.

“Why?”
They’d ask.

“So people will love me”

Now that is partly true,
Who doesn’t want to be accepted and loved by those around them?

But

I have something else to say.

I don’t only long for the people to love me.
I long to stand up for the people who don’t know they’re being taken advantage of.
I want to open people’s eyes.

To show them that there is more to life than
work, or politics, or who’s dating who, or what the **** the Kardashians are wearing today.
There’s beauty in everything, but the media blinds.

I had lost my vision for a while.
I’m slowly recovering.

I used to think of material things.
Superficialities.

Now I think of how stunning the way the light reflects off of the brightly colored walls of my room.
I think of how sad it makes me to see trash littering my city’s roads.
I think of my friends on the other side of the world who are doing their own, normal, mundane, beautiful things the very moment I am laying my head down to rest.
I think of injustices being shoved into innocent faces.
I think of my future and what I plan to do about it.

but I think that little parts of me,
Still wish to be loved, no matter how cruel I know this world to be.