Alice (from Wonderland) tells her Mad Hatter friend her Uncle told her to wish for 6 impossible things before breakfast. With this in her tiny pocket she slays the Jabberwocky and everyone lives happily ever after – and we may not, but let us vow not to be beaten by Jabberwockys and impossible things for that matter.
Boy wished for impossible things….
….adults grew up and stopped fighting.
Roads didn’t take their toll and the sky could breathe again.
Mother nature didn’t get so angry.
Homes were homes and goodnight’s were safe.
Morning brought back the good ol’ days.
He was invisible to the world and it to him – and tears were allowed to flow as freely as oil and concrete.
Rose wasn’t into saving water – she liked her bath too much.
Rose is of the view that taking care of herself is the best addition she could possibly make to the world beyond her own thought processes. For much of the time she lives her life in blissful oblivion, completely absorbed in simple off-the-planet personal pleasures of strange delight – and no financial gain. Long Live Rose.
Footnote: This Rose seems relatively free from an environmental and social conscience, which makes her very politically incorrect. She does have very green tendencies that offset her blissful oblivion.
Rose is free from any expectation to be abnormally beautiful 24/7, which leaves her undefinable by looks alone – and alone she is. Consequently, Rose rarely receives invitations of the social kind but isn’t bothered by being omitted in this way. In fact, it affords her three good things. One, more time to herself. Two, being left alone to be herself. And three, to live within the containment of her own tangible world. With such a high level of self acceptance, Rose manages to by-pass all standard dress codes and cosmetic alterations of the conforming and horribly restricting kind – and mirrors.
Footnote: In a world of ‘likes’ and ‘followers’, this Rose is independently refreshing. Always good to question who and what determines our worth.
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
Footnote: The poem ‘Invictus’ was written in 1875 by William Ernest Henley, an English Poet, who had one of his legs amputated at the age of 17. The poem, which he wrote while healing from the amputation, is a testimony to his refusal to let his handicap disrupt his life. ‘Invictus’ is Latin for unconquered. Undefeated. It was the anthem used for the Invictus Games this year.
Although an underachiever in academic fields, Rose is a star in self development and a high minder of her own identity. She has made outstanding progress in finding for herself a sense of quiet achievement and direction – despite constant interruptions. She is also dedicated to researching sources of content other than incoming gratification – and acknowledgement from adult figures and male dominated establishments.
Rose exhibits no desire to possess parental powers of manipulation, authority or control, or the conservatism that comes with maturity – all of which would spoil the spontaneity she is free to leap into at any unguarded moment. Rose continues valiantly reaching towards newly found desires and pickings ripe for her own taste, mostly of the underground and obscure variety – which appear to mark her path to somewhere different to where others would like her to remain. Long Live Rose.
