Granted, but everyone HATES it! And you never write again...
I wish I could meet the 9th Dr and Rose, get the two of them together, help the TARDIS make Rose a Time Lady, (and all that's permanent), meet Captain Jack Harkness, kiss Captain Jack Harkness, and... stay with one of the two groups (the Captain or the Doctor and Rose) forever -- as a friend (or, in the Captain's case, more!)!
(TRY AND CORRUPT THAT!)
Easy. You make about as good of a companion as the guy with the brain gate in his head, except now the Doctor can't get rid of you. He has to put up with you for all eternity, driving him to madness and corrupting him into the Valeyard. Nice job breaking it, hero.
I wish I were like Dale Cooper.
Granted, you're so healthy that you live forever and get to see everyone you know and love die.
I wish my room would always stay clean.
Granted, but this is done by removing everything in yuor room from existence and turning it into an airlocked vaccum.
I wish to know everything.
Granted, but because it's quite literally physically impossible to know everything(you'd have to run a perfectly-detailed simulation of the universe, and any medium of a simulation has to be more complex than whatever it's simulating, and everything that exists is part of the universe, so your brain would have to be more complicated than itself+the complexity of the rest of the universe, which is impossible, even without considering the possibility that the universe contains infinite detail like a fractal pattern), you... do the opposite of ceasing to exist, actually.
You become reality itself. But this isn't as great as it sounds, because your consciousness is now so overwhelmingly complex that it can no longer be personified. You become the new godhead, and extrude entire races of sentient life like tendrils across the stars and planets in a hopeless effort to come to understand yourself.
But it will all be in vain. You know all too well that even their collective knowledge won't be enough to cover every wrinkle on every particle of your existence. You're doomed to exist forever without a mouth, forever unable to even string together a sufficiently coherent thought to scream.
I wish for a chimichanga.
WHOA.. You had me cracking up at "chimichanga."
Well...That was depressing.
The new god-me deletes chimichangas from existence.
Granted, but every time you make it nice the next day's weather will be HORRIBLE (and you can't change that).
I wish I would stop procrastinating.
Granted, but you never do anything but work. You never eat, sleep, blink, or, eventually, breathe...
I wish I knew how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop.
Granted, but then the world ends.
I wish I had Spiderman powers.