I Want


An introspective, stream of conscience, soft rant I wrote on the state of my life after I failed to get a movie role I really wanted. I was seeking to discover what was truly important to me.

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I Want

I want that movie part that I just lost.
I want air conditioning with out worrying about the cost.
I want to be able to be honest, I want people to be truthful to me.
I want to buy a new car, I want to move to the beach.
I want my computer to work right and stop losing all my thoughts.
I want to throw it out a window, watch it bust into a thousand parts.
I want a message when I come home.
I want a girlfriend. I want a dog. I don’t want to be alone.
I want to be as smart as him. I want to learn her name.
I want the Mets to beat the Yankees. I want to go to the game.
I want my parents to be closer. I want to see them now and then.
I want the phone to ring. I want it to be a friend.
I want my name off the goddamn telemarketing lists.
I want to read all the books and homework assignments I skipped.
I want to eat out tonight for dinner. I want someone to take me.
I want a friend who I can cry to, I want to be able to cry like I used to when I was three.
I want to know how you’re really supposed to play the guitar.
I want a piano in my room. I want to meet Billy Joel and Paul McCartney
And Elvis Costello and Bruce Springsteen and Ben Folds and Loudin Wainwright
And Paul Simon and ask them what I should do for the next part.
Lie, li-lie, lie, li-lie lie lie lie lie. Lie li-lie, Lie li-lie lie lie lie lie li-li-lie lie lie.
I want to see my Mom today. I want to make her proud.
Then I want to go home again as soon as she starts to get loud.
I want to make my movie, then write two or three more.
I want to write down that brilliant thought I had in the shower
Or while I was driving and forgot when I walked in the door.
I want to have a child someday. I want to make up for my mistakes.
I want to erase all my bad memories, no, not really
I want to look those assholes right in the face.
I want to pay for all my sins or somehow correct them.
I want to date all my ex-girlfriends again, but only re-live the dancing.
I want my best friend from high school to come over for a drink.
I want to shotgun beer cans with him over the sink.
I want to re-live all my good times, but not re-live the pain.
I want to have a wet dream again, don’t care about the stain.
I want my dad to be my friend, want him to lose all that weight.
I want him to be happy with himself and live to ninety-eight.
I want to make a living doing something that I love.
I want to sleep late in the morning, get up and go for a run.
I want my favorite radio station to not switch to Spanish.
And sometimes when I’m scared or lonely or sad, I just want to vanish.
I want to write a song that’s not funny, have you listen to the end.
Then when I’m finally finished playing it, maybe sometime,
I want you to ask for it again