I don’t want to catch a falling star because nuclear fusion burns my skin.
I don’t want to share my life with you. Get your own life.
I don’t want my wildest dreams to come true because the other night I dreamt about clowns.
I don’t want to find myself because I’d just lose myself again.
I don’t want to choose life because I can’t even choose from a menu.
I don’t want a dream job. I want a dream pile of cash.
I don’t want to have films made about me. Jim Carrey would inevitably get into the cast.
I don’t want to be different. I just want to not be the same.
But mostly I just want a TARDIS, a kitten and manageable hair.
Hmm. I’d like the Tardis and the hair, but I’d have to swap the kitten for a puppy. But then the puppy would have to be taken into care because I’m allergic and useless. I can barely look after myself, let alone a puppy.
Yes, indeed (or no, indeed). Indifference and the promise of an early bed.