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I want to be me when I grow up.

April 19, 2011

I have restarted one of my very stalled projects, and that meant finding a diagram in a notebook. I rummaged through it to find I had written this poem on the previous page, some time in 2010. It was really written for performance, but I hate the way my voice sounds.

I want to be me when I grow up.

I don’t want to be a woman, a working mum, a single mum, a soccer mom, with Heat magazine telling me what I should want, who I should be, who I should want.

I want to be me when I grow up.

I don’t want to be a man, the man, gone fishing, gone to the pub. I’ll be a daddy in protest, waiting for the day when there’s a friendly term for what I want.

I want to be me when I grow up.

I don’t want to be a corprate drone of a multinational corporation. I don’t want to satify the whims of orders from on high, when they’ve never seen the ground. I want to ask people what they want.

I want to be me when I grow up.

I don’t want to sit quietly when I see people being ignored, ridiculed, abused, killed. I don’t want to let other people tell me what is important. I want everyone to have all they need, even though that’s not what some people want.

I want everyone to be themselves when I grow up.

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