11/11/11

Wishing is useless. On the eve of the momentous occasion of 11/11/11 11:11(am or pm), I feel like making a wish at that time is just the same as any moment around the clock, useless. Because wishes make us hopeful for something which either means: it will become a goal and we will strive for it, it will become forgotten in the next 30 seconds, or it will lead to a hopeful longing of something that can never happen. Thinking back on wishes I have made, I realized none of them have come true and I haven’t gotten anywhere because of them either. Why is our human race so persistent on a cause that can never be satisfied? From our childhood, we are told to make wishes on stars at night and from then on it just becomes a habit. But, why? Why can we not teach our children to be grateful for themselves, the food they eat, or the earth surrounding them? We really are setting children up for a lifetime of disappointment which seems pretty pathetic. Maybe I am just a cynical person in the making because none of mine have ever come true, but I can’t be the only one. Nor would I want to be. To have the things I wished for would make me a materialized, romantic who gets her heart broken a million times. The only wishes that have ever come true are those I have done for myself, which means they aren’t wishes at all but more like personal goals. Wishes can also be linked to the superhuman being in the sky, because isn’t “God” the one that grants wishes. The whole idea seems pretty skewed to me, I would rather just enjoy the stars and treat each moment like a gem than sit and wish for things that 95% of the time will never come true. Well, at least with the 5% I don’t sound like too much of a cynic.