They Say...

They say be careful what you wish for because in the end you just might get it. I say be careful what you wish for because you just might not.

In fact be careful what you hope for, what you think about, what you think you know, what you think is certain, what you know is certain, and what you're certain you know. Things have a way of disappearing in front of your eyes the moment you open them. Don't count your wishes before they become chickens, and never chickens before they lay eggs that hatch. Don't even think you'll have eggs for hatching wishes or chicklets until you're sure that the chicken wants to be in the coop to begin with. For things in this world are merely those lost to another. And in the end what crooked tale do we tell, but that of a Universe of all that was Lost and Found–a giant cardboard box with the retainers, glasses, and tattered jackets of those who feel they have lost what they cannot remember should have been found. But you see, that is a horse of a different color. Oh, if only wishes were horses. If wishes were horses, and I had a penny for every wish who lost the race, I'd bet on the Kentucky Derby...but all things considered, I'd most likely lose. My wish is gone and as they say there is little use in beating a dead horse.

In the end, I suppose that's all that can be said. After all, if wishes were horses and horses were fishes, then we would all drowned and be dead.

But, perhaps this all makes very little sense. After all, my creative writing professor often told me that my writing, and hence my mind, was prone to the dramatic and the archaic. However, in my line of work, that is very rarely a bad thing. What does that professor know anyway? His name was Abe and his favorite word was "Pumpkin." ...of all the beautiful, enchanting, and thrilling words in the entire English language, whose favorite word is "Pumpkin"? People named Abe, that's who.