MAKE A WISH.

But don't tell me what it was. If you tell me your wish, it won't come true and why would you make a wish you don't want to come true?

It's funny that we're encouraged to keep our greatest desires to ourselves, as if how other people judge them can corrupt the purity of a wish that you can silently work to success. And yet we criticize the people who keep to themselves and do what they want to. Perhaps because there's a certain point where our desires become immoral, distasteful, or hurtful and we need someone to convince us to let them go. We can't let the things we want run wild, but to keep them in check could destroy them. As much as we know that there are certain things that society says that we shouldn't lust after, who wants to destroy an idea that entertains in such a wildly fascinating manner? And even keeping silent can destroy the brilliance of desire, admitting that it wouldn't be accepted by friends, or even by strangers. And then desire turns to fear. I want you to know, but I can't tell you because what if you reject my idea? And sometimes even scarier: what if you accept it?

I don't like lucid dreaming because it gives me too much control. And although my desires aren't necessarily clear when I'm not in control of my thoughts, it just seems so much more honest than when I mentally destroy them by menial dissection. So often I lose track of what I want based off of how other people react and taking all of that into account. When I really want something, I'll either be so secure that I'll tell absolutely everyone I come into contact with or else so nervous about losing my way that I'll keep it silence, spent on no one. The times that I hit an in-between, I'm only unsure and losing ground pretty quickly, usually in finding that something I was so certain of had a couple of loopholes, missing footholds, and plenty of room for that desire to fall apart. But maybe it's supposed to happen that way.

Desire. Wishes. Silence.
I wish that I understood.