The Inner Monologue

If I had three magic genie wishes, I wouldn’t waste them on things that vanish as soon as they’re spent. I’d aim for permanence — for shifts that ripple outward.

First, I’d wish for understanding — the kind that dissolves conflict before it hardens. Not perfect empathy, but an expanded awareness in every person that lets them pause before reacting, to see the whole picture, not just the sliver that hurts. That single upgrade to human consciousness might rewrite civilization itself.

Second, I’d wish for resilience — physical, emotional, environmental. Bodies that heal faster, minds that bend without breaking, and a planet that recovers as quickly as we do. It’s not immortality; it’s endurance. The ability to survive our mistakes long enough to grow beyond them.

Third, I’d wish for creative freedom untethered from fear. The courage to express truth — through art, invention, words — without censorship, ridicule, or repression. Because if every mind could fully speak, sing, build, or dream, we’d stop needing genies in the first place.

Three wishes, all aimed at evolution rather than escape.