Of Names and Things


Wishfinger is a name that comes from my left index finger. Upon the knuckle of the middle phalange is an odd white…thing. I should probably put up a picture. I haven’t seen anything like it on anyone else’s fingers, and I have had it for as long as I can remember. The shape of it very much resembles that of a wishbone. As a child, I recall wondering what I should use the wish for. I have not stopped wondering since. I have come to the understanding that wishing won’t really do much for a person beyond expressing desires. Still, I feel that power that I felt as a child. I feel the weight of it in my chest when I think about first wondering how to use my wish. After all, this is something no one else has, I would say. Why would it be shaped like a wish bone, in the index finger of my dominant hand, if it weren’t important? That would just be silly.

I even remember morbidly pondering whether or not I would have to actually take it out of my finger to use it. After all, a wishbone is traditionally split in two by a pair of people to decide who gets the wish.

I worry about my child self sometimes. He thought a lot of things that were too scary for him to be thinking. It was a cause for great discomfort sometimes. He wasn’t really much of a speaker for a long time, so it wasn’t like anyone could tell him to calm down and not think those things. They only came out of my mouth when I truly felt my life was in danger, like when I first got a nosebleed. Most other things I kept to myself.

I remember an episode of Code Name Kids Next Door, where Number 1 went to a paradise-like land, and it turned out to be some matrix-esque plot device. I was 11 or 12 at the time, and I remember being horrified at the notion of everything around me being fake, my person being used for a psychological experiment or some such evil ploy. I never thought to talk to my mother about it. I simply wrestled with the idea for days, maybe weeks. I wondered how I could know for sure, how I could escape. My mother accidentally closed my cat in between the two doors of our home’s entrance. He was perfectly fine, but as it happened right after I had seen the episode, I decided it must certainly be evil. Perhaps this is why I didn’t say anything to her about it.

Alright so maybe that story was a bad example. But, you get the picture.

I never once thought about splitting the wishbone of mine with someone else. It has to be my wish, but without risking giving it to someone else, theoretically there is no chance for me to use the wish.

Maybe I could cheat and say it is a contest between two sides of myself. It probably would be. There is the side of me that wants to take action, be productive, and follow my dreams. Then, there is the side that is content to spend as much time as possible escaping this reality for ones that allow me to feel more powerful, and give me very clear indicators of improvement, of success.

The first side doesn’t get much attention. I hope he gets the wish.

This blog will primarily be about the things that go on in my head. I sometimes feel they are worth sharing, but more than anything I feel it will be a good way to organize my thinking, as well as get me started on actually keeping up with something. If I were a more confident man, I would probably use my wish to ensure the continuation of this blog. I would like it to not die out after a week like the previous blog I attempted to start a year or so ago.

I don’t feel comfortable using the wish yet.

I will merely use its name to kick start my ambition. I hope it is enough.


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