In time

 

 

 

 

    Dearest time,When I was little I use to want to grow up Et become a young lady. So I could do things. Hold my head to a certain high Et wear heels.

I know the heels part stole my smile. I wanted to wear pencil skirts Et big hats, and work In the city so big, a building so high that I sat at my glass windows and it was actually glass walls. I wanted black glasses, and pink lips. So I could be so important.
I suppose like my father.

He was too important to present. I forgive you important father.

I wanted to be a boss. One that everyone admired Et wanted to be like. A absolute mess of dream when you are little non?

I think I am the actual opposite of what I dreamt of being. Absolutely so. I live away from the traveling world, had tossed the apron on entertaining, I literally don’t spend much time, out there in the world, I am much happiest sitting in my writing quarters listening to the classics that bore so many Et I scribble hearts away.
I am not a wordly person. I find the travelers of the world to be brave Et solemnly dauntless. I couldn’t at this point of my life. I prefer siting in the glass house, not being hinged by the world.

A different feeling though, I’m. Not. Yet. 80.
I also know that as you grow Et become dreams feel different.
I don’t have many to be honest. I get asked by readers, what are my dreams.

I think I lived them in my 20’s, Et I  was rather most unhappiest then. Having it all is quietly a perception we think. I guarantee you when you finally get what you dreamt off, it’s not at all what you pictured.
Probably not close. I wanted my Victorian bath for so long, it’s sitting in a box and I dare not open it. I wanted it in most of my homes. I thought of having it, my husband always said, it’s so small and ancient, yah. I am bloddy the queen of archaism.

Morale is, time changes everyone, and what you wanted at 29 would not be the same thing you seek at 79. Or like me, in between. We become different as the hands of time bustle forth. I suppose the trick is knowing it’s happening Et living in the moment of who you are now Et not the little you, you were once upon a tale.
Though it’s most mandatory that you remember that and hold on to what you dreamt of. As one day, as the day i am in,

you’ll remember that moment Et you’ll smile putting it away. As I do in books. I am so pleased to be that person. Though sometimes, I’ll whisper this,“I have to hide from the world, to be okay. It gets messy out there. It’s part of this writer thing, I am, i suppose.”

I’m filled gratitude for you all,

Merci my dear friends. For reading me.

    Your writer,Rianna Kate Shaikh