Wake Up by mary elizabeth

Do you know what I hate? When you watch a really scary movie and then in the end the whole thing turns out to be someone’s psychotic episode. It just bugs me. I want the weird freaky stuff to be real. I want everything to be real, actually – magic, ghosts, talking dogs – all of it. And not just in movies. I want my wishes granted and my mistakes to be the fault of sinister occultish forces. I don’t want to be responsible for my own reality.

They say when the student is ready the teacher appears, which is annoying because it turns everyone you ever dealt with into teachers with difficult lessons you were finally ready to learn. Yuck.  Just once, I’d like to be the teacher and actually know it at the time and teach some people some lessons! Just kidding – plenty of my teachers have taught me humility and, paradoxically, that you can’t really teach anybody anything. Except yourself. That’s just how life is – one long last five minutes of The Wizard of Oz, where you learn that the power was really yours all along. And then you wake up.