Stars.

I knew, even when I was little, that wishing on stars wouldn’t work.

As the words of a wish flitted through my lips or across my mind, I knew they were only spots of light.

And yet I wished anyway, just in case.

Some wishes were pointless.

Just thrown out for boredom, or just because I could.

I wished for ponies and puppies and material things.

Others, however, I really wanted to come true.

I wished for my Dad to come home.

For my mother to stop smoking.

For someone to love me and take me away.

What good is a wish? When the only things that hear them are too far away to act, what use is there in wishing?

Certainly not happiness.

Wishes are dreams with a will and a hint of disparity.

I can dream. I can dream very, very well. And therefore it’s plausible that I can wish.

But my dreams, at least, I can create a happy ending for.

A wish is an open-ended question left hanging in the air, waiting for someone to answer back.

I’m sick of waiting, I’m sick of wishing, but unfortunately I act as a Pandora’s box.

I rant, I whine, I doubt, I show nothing short of a lack of faith, and yet…I still have hope.

A wish is a dream that may never come true.

A wish is a question, not always thought out or confident.

A wish is the hope that someone will answer you.

A wish…

I wish…

I wish…

I wish to not need to keep wishing.

Because no matter how much I love the stars, my neck gets a crick if I stare for too long.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Song of the day: “Dream” by Priscilla Ahn

I have never been blessed with test anxiety. Which means, in the passed twelve years of my life, I have never once been afraid of taking a test. There’s just no point.

The way I see it, a test is just a piece of paper with questions on it. If someone threw it at me, it wouldn’t hurt. If it appeared in my dreams, I wouldn’t scream. So why, when I can easily tear it apart, should I be afraid of a test?

 With that in mind, it should be noted that I was not afraid to take my math final this morning. No. However, I did feel a sense of doom. Perhaps it was the bug i found in the bread bag this morning, or maybe the way my toast burned just the right way so i would hate it, but as I stared at my test, I suddenly realized the weight it carried.

The next year of my life depends on whether or not I pass this one, simple, useless, math test.

And then the doom was gone, the bell rang, and I headed out the door.

School is over. My future is unplanned and undetermined. I have no idea what to do next.

It feels like…when a plane takes off.

You’re on a solid ground, you can feel it beneath you. And then a soft jolt, a minute awareness of weightlessness, and you look out the window to realize the ground you are so used to is getting farther and farther away.

Of course, this is about the point I would think of how screwed I am if the plane malfunctions, but…fate can’t screw me over that badly…can it?

I have been eighteen for twenty minutes (twenty-one by the end of this sentence), and I have no idea what to think about it.

Most would go crazy, jump for joy at having reached that milestone we idolize since childhood. I’m not mindless, however. I know that after this, after I take my exams next week and leave high school indefinitely, there will be no going back. I will never again be six, tormenting my sister while she babysits me. I will never again be thirteen, marveling at my first baby neice. I will never again have the support of age to fall back on, rather the opposite.

I no longer have an excuse, and from here it’s only forward.

I’m scared, for the lack of a better word. In five more years, will I be alone? Will I be boring and normal? Will I have made it through that thing called college? I have no idea.

But that first step out on my own, the same one I took in kindergarten, the same in middle school, the same in every other experience I haven’t wanted to do.

That first step is the worst of it all. And that first step is today.

It is now twelve thirty-one, thirty-two by the end of this sentence.

I am eighteen, and now I have to deal with it.

I should have committed felony while I still had the chance.