The Cookie worth a Thousand Words This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

October 28, 2009
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It’s fascinating how fortune cookies are always right; the always-knowing rectangular slip of paper with the sole reason for everything we’ve ever done. I have revolved my life around an obsession hidden away with all the secrets of the world, safe from exposure and the aversion of criticism. An obsession only the cookie, the fortune and I could ever understand…until now.
The connection I share with these mysterious cookies is most bizarre. They are the evolutionary origin of my happiness (not to mention the main staple of my daily morning breakfast). Folded tightly within each and every wanton shape, are the answers to all my questions; a sanctuary of knowledge balanced effortlessly in the palm of my hand. And with every new fortune, I am guaranteed a tiny spot of honesty within everyday that only I am destined to fulfill. If you are still inquiring about the validity of my peculiar habit then know the answer is yes, the simplest of questions such as; what will happen today, I leave to a bite-size cracker. I have always been told my dreams are big. I make no attempt in denying that nor do I deny my failure to piece them together in a sensible, chronological order. My lofty Dreams of studying anthropology and joining the Peace Corps float freely amongst those on a more minute scale, like experiencing life away from home and exploring my passion for watercolors and art history.
There is no way of telling what the future holds or if and when any of my dreams will actually become a reality. And that is why we hold my aspirations close at heart, so they are not lost or forgotten along the way. But no magic wanton could tell me that. No, a fortune cookie is only useful in guiding me along my path. It reminds me of the simple questions in life that must be answered before progression into new chapters. Because you see; once I have read and eaten the last crumb of my fortune only I am left to find the answer to its question alone. And whether the cookie reveals its opinion on a renewed friendship or warns of an unexpected tragedy coming my way, it is up to me to decide the ultimate outcome. So I suppose my real obsession with these cookies, are their everyday obstacles and my everyday triumphs and everyday failures.
Deep in the heart of poverty where I am needed to pierce its throat, deep in the smoldering eyes of the children where I am needed to relight the flame… At times when I find myself easily lost and running with the eagerness of my future feet, and after I have retraced my way back, out of the jungles and dirty streets, passed the burning fields and over the endless emerald depths, into my house, back into room, and into my bed, I decide to open just one more cookie in hopes of getting a little closer to fulfilling those big dreams of mine.





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