Do You Want To Be A Real Boy?

JPEG image-EFA7A195288C-1.jpeg

Do you want to be a real boy?

Don’t give 50 people strings to hold,

To pull you in 50 different directions.

Don’t dance to the most stylish rhythm,

Or sing the everyone’s-doing-it song,

Or bathe in the praises of puppets,

Or win races you don’t want to run.

Don’t paint on one single expression,

Pretending joy, faking happiness, beaming confidence you don’t have.

Be imperfect. Because that’s what you are.

Because real boys are never perfect.

With their embarrassing moments,

With their hurtful mistakes,

Because real boys hurt people sometimes with their imperfections,

And they don’t rewrite it, or reframe it, or pretend it didn’t happen,

They feel it.


Do you want to be a real boy?

Listen to your own thoughts.

Not the should’s but the wants.

What do you want?

How do you feel?

Listen.

Know the spinning wheels in your mind,

Know the cause of every spine tingle, every bubble of anger,

Every choked down tear, know your own self.

Do you want to be a real boy?

Be with people. Not to impress them,

Or to get something from them,

Or to impress someone else,

But to know them.

Because life is short and not worth a single moment if you’re nothing but a porcelain doll on a string.

I hope you’ll be a real boy -

Offering yourself to other real people - and even fake people,

People who need so badly to be real.

Because real boys help others cut their strings,

Wipe off their painted-on emotions,

Hear their own thoughts,

Break through the porcelain to the vulnerable skin beneath.

Do you want to be a real boy?