Wishes for Everyone

Wish-Broken…

I have heard of broken hearts, broken promises…but broken wishes, seldom do I hear much of the matter. And if the concept ruled in different terms, this is the phrase I thought of using.

I’d like to think it carries a much simpler, lighter degree of disappointment.

This way, it wouldn’t be much of a shame to admit that you had your wish broken. May it be an excuse for something worse, at least we all have an idea of what was, somewhat, taken away from us. Or broken.

For whatever is broken, logically speaking, if it is needed, if it is what is supposed to be, if it is good and for the good, then it ought to be mended. These requisites, although may look like one, don’t necessarily have to be fulfilled, but in my personal view, they have to be.

Wishes of the heart, if they are the only wishes that truly exist (apart from plausible others) they are the hardest wishes of them all. They go far beyond death, and they shine the brightest. I noticed even if it fails to be granted, it remains the same. Something you may frown at, smile at, or nod at whenever you look back.

Decisions, decisions…how do you make the best out of it? How do you contemplate without thinking for the worse, or the worst? If it’s bad enough, it can’t get any worse, right? If it’s good, it’s not supposed to go away?

In one of my Educ classes, our professor told us a message whenever we’re out there, teaching students,

‘Preparation, preparation, preparation.’ Just three words, and all the same.

But how do you prepare for things you don’t know? I’d go on about values and virtues all day (and may not even get it right, nor succeed) but at the end of it all, I know one thing for sure.

It was a line from a movie, and the man said to the woman, because she lost trust in the world,

‘If something good happens along the way, you hold onto it, until it’s time to let go.’

Is man selfish, that even in the end, it’s always been a journey with one’s self?

The truth, perhaps, is that journeys are made like adventures. You’re not alone. You’re on your own, but never alone. Something is always out there. For all of us. And how we deal with it, how we overcome, go through… it tells us who we are.

So as far as broken wishes are concerned, I know for sure there were adventures that dealt with more than one wish. And every time a star dies, could a new one be born? I hope so. Even if not, let’s make as many wishes as possible.

After all, they’re wishes. Some of them are bound to come true.

Post 3: Comparisons

I am in fact late with one entry.

As the title and premise of this blog, I'm supposed to post a short memory once a week; and last week, I forgot to. Yesterday, I compensated for that, although I must admit I wanted to keep a religious every-Saturday-short-blog-sharing kind of routine, I obviously ruined that chain now.

However, to keep up at least with the 4 times a month postage, I am on my third.

Post 3: Comparisons

When recalling the days of our teenhood, at least here in the Philippines, people often tell me that high school was their best years.

Personally, I beg to differ.

Childhood was a dream. It wasn't just a fantasy, because it really happened, and I was really happy. But after the primary years, elementary school was brutal. Compared to high school however, elementary felt like the Secret Garden.

High School on the other hand was roller coster. It wasn't just earth smacked right between heaven and hell, it was puberty, and it reigned in all of us supreme.

Primary years in the Philippines start around nursery until preparatory school. After that, we graduate towards grade school, and mind you, we're approximately 7 years old by 1st grade, and that even depends if you were accelerated. The trend before, and even until now, is to graduate as young as possible, and get into college before puberty runs dry. Some kids make it by 17, others by 16. I went to college at 17. Most from my school did.

College was your marriage to reality. For some of us, it was liberation. 'Freedom'. Although not long after you get settled in your first year, it wasn't as 'free' as we previously thought.

I loved/love going to college. Right now, in my last year as a full-time apprentice and taking my last class that only goes along with the practicum. Dating back from 1st year, I daresay, compared to high school, college felt like an overseas experience and you actually bring back what you learned.

Strictly speaking, this blog is for short narratives only. How I'd love to expound, but somehow, I'm finding a kind of pleasure in sharing gists of my past.

However short, gists.

Post 1: 'Holy' Days

I don't want to forget; I miss those female bonded days back in Holy, through friggin thick or thin, the girls hung together like dolls in long-sleeved brown uniforms, whether warm or cool. Yeah sure we hated each other every now and then, competition was tight and tough, but we played it real. Sometimes. As expected. It was high school. So much more, never less.