WHEN I'M GONE.
i watch movies. i read books. so many options and suggestions of who we're supposed to be, and where we are supposed to be, and at exactly what time.... the majority of us agree with it, and then there's the select few that take it too a whole new level where you can never ever ever do enough, which in itself is horribly terrifying. numbing, even. some sort of unbeatable race against time... where each age, begining back at 12 was a wakeup call to mortality. so hard to live in the day, when your future keeps glaring at you.
and then there are the lucky ones... those who just don't care. those who have somehow been able to beat the radar, and live happily ever after, doing whatever and whatall they want to do. believing that there is always tomorrow, and that you simply, cannot take it with you when you go.
but, what happens when we do go? how do we get remembered? and is even that important? why do such thoughts bring terror. ...it should be a moot point, really. after all, during life you can't really please anyone, anyway... why would we think it's possible in death?
those who leave us behind, or that we leave behind... by moving, by dying, by failed relationships... by successes...
when it all becomes so pointless... what do you do then?
winning or losing, seems to be almost the same exact thing.
we grow up hopefully being told how beautiful we are. how possible. how we're suchacatch, and we're going to make someone very happy someday...
we're going to go so far....
but then, we stop and take check of things. we were not loved by the world. we were outcasted. we were not beautiful. we weren't a very good catch at all, and wouldn't know someone who was a very good catch for us if they shot us between the eyes...
we didn't make someone very happy. and we were tortured, and abused in the process.
the only possible way that i can imagine bringing meaning back into life... into my own life... is rewriting my story from here on out.
to somehow give forth the effort to end up with a good story, at the point where it says "the end." rather than to have a rather sad story.
that would be my point of living. and if i'm remembered, then i would have to say upfront... thank you for remembering me.
and if not... i'll be ok knowing that i ended up finally having a happy story.
and then there are the lucky ones... those who just don't care. those who have somehow been able to beat the radar, and live happily ever after, doing whatever and whatall they want to do. believing that there is always tomorrow, and that you simply, cannot take it with you when you go.
but, what happens when we do go? how do we get remembered? and is even that important? why do such thoughts bring terror. ...it should be a moot point, really. after all, during life you can't really please anyone, anyway... why would we think it's possible in death?
those who leave us behind, or that we leave behind... by moving, by dying, by failed relationships... by successes...
when it all becomes so pointless... what do you do then?
winning or losing, seems to be almost the same exact thing.
we grow up hopefully being told how beautiful we are. how possible. how we're suchacatch, and we're going to make someone very happy someday...
we're going to go so far....
but then, we stop and take check of things. we were not loved by the world. we were outcasted. we were not beautiful. we weren't a very good catch at all, and wouldn't know someone who was a very good catch for us if they shot us between the eyes...
we didn't make someone very happy. and we were tortured, and abused in the process.
the only possible way that i can imagine bringing meaning back into life... into my own life... is rewriting my story from here on out.
to somehow give forth the effort to end up with a good story, at the point where it says "the end." rather than to have a rather sad story.
that would be my point of living. and if i'm remembered, then i would have to say upfront... thank you for remembering me.
and if not... i'll be ok knowing that i ended up finally having a happy story.
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