Soft

I want to be soft. It's all I long for, really. To live a life amongst the clouds, floating along, comfortable as can be. I want to be pure, and robustly alabaster. I want the light to shine on me with a sort of fuzzy glow like on an old fashioned soap opera. When I walk into the room people would smile, with just a slight turn of the corners of their lips. I would receive kind greetings and salutations from all who cross my path throughout the day. There would be an air about me, of something that is delicate and wise and true. People would look to me for advice, but I wouldn't have to say anything to them; I'd only have to provide an ear to hear them with because that's all they really would need anyhow. And I wouldn't only hear them, but I would actually listen to them and pay attention. All anyone wants is validation. People think the world revolves around love, but that isn't true. What we actually need is someone to acknowledge us and appreciate our contributions to the world. Love does nothing but provide us all with heartbreak and disappointment. This, you see, is why being soft is so important to me. One needs as much softness as one can get in order to cushion the blows. "Pew! Pew! Pew!" becomes a gentle "Poof. Poof. Poof." Now really, nobody can cry at that, can they? They can only sweetly smile, turn, and go on their merry way...