I wish I was a business card or a paper plane, or an old dollar bill. I wish I changed hands so many times that I was worn at the edges from the places I had traveled to. I wish some kid had launched me from the fourth floor of his building just to watch the air currents catch me. I wish someone had folded me or built me, or called me their own for a fraction of second, even while knowing that they never really owned me. I wish someone had taken my dreams and put them into their wallet and had spent them with care. I wish I had changed someone’s life in some small way.
― I wrote this a long time ago











