"You may not be somebody to the world but you can be the world to somebody"
Maybe so. And maybe there are many who are content with such a paltry consolation prize.
Should I envy them?
People who are truly to content to die a nobody as long as loving eyes watch their last breath?
Someone asked me recently 'Do you not want to love and be loved?'
Well, I guess the answer isn't no. But the answer to the question 'Fancy going for a few beers on Friday?' is unlikely to be no either.
It doesn't make it enough.
It doesn't make it the be all and all in life. Yes, it's nice. It's something good to have. But it can never be enough in itself.
It cannot make you happy in itself.
To love and be loved.
It can be a support for you, it can be something that inspires you onwards upwards. THROUGH being the world to somebody, you may indeed be driven on to be somebody to the world. If you picked the right somebody.
Or it may be a sedative for you, to ease the emptiness you feel when you finally realise it is never going to be, then, perhaps, being the world to somebody will make living out the rest of your life in hopeless disappointment not seem so bad. Being the world to somebody can be your opium. If you picked the right somebody.
Life is not a dress rehearsal, it is not a game, it is not a test.
We only get one shot and we don't know how long we'll have.
We go out onto the stage to succeed or fail.
And one day we'll be lieing there on our death beds asking ourselves if we have bought our immortality.
Many people lived in the nineteenth century. I know the names of many of them. But not the names of my own forebears of that time. I do not want that to be my fate.
I want to stamp my signature so firmly into the rocks of this world that the sands of time cannot erase it this side of doomsday.
I want it never to be forgotten that 'Joe woz ere'.
I am not afraid to die.
But I am afraid to die a nobody.
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10 comments:
Fame is not something that interests me. After I'm dead, I won't be able to enjoy whatever legacy I've left. I can't imagine fretting as I am dying that I will be forgotten. I can't really think of anyone in the past who I wish I had been.
I tend to think people with immortality issues are deeply unhappy and have a lot of bad juju going on that impedes them from participating in a normal human experience. Which is not to say they are extraordinary, but rather damaged. My opinion, of course.
Nope, doesn't bother me. As long as my kids remember me fondly that's all that matters. I'd rather be immortal but that's not going to happen :)
VR- It's a touch more compex than that, I think.
I'm not sure I'd ever want FAME fame, in the sense that say, paris Hilton has it. For two reasons. I'd always want to lead a relatively normal life, I think for one, and secondly I wouldn't want to be 'famous' for nothing.
On the other hand, I must admit, I do like being- central. I like being the centre of the crowd, to a limit. As long as I can maintain a certain privacy.
There's two types of fame, I guess. one is the type where everuone recognises your face but in fifty years you'll be forgotten- Big Brother celebrities, for example- then there are the many people alive today who you could walk past in the street and not recognise, but already have, and will have for ever, encyclopedia articles that mention them, because they have made a contribution to humanity that we already value.
To be honest, I'm not sure I even want my name remembered, per se. That's not what matters to me. It's that something you said or did won't be forgotten.
Bad juju? Well, I certainly have a sort of James Dean complex. I badly want to live fast, die young and leave a good looking corpse, and still get to come back for my own funeral...
Though I'm not so young any more. Hence the increasing morbidity, I guess.
The taste of life seems to be going stale. I've felt kind of at a crossroads for the last couple of years and I don't really know which direction to take.
Sue- I think I'd be remembered fondly if I were to go now. Not that I'm likely to at this point. I do wonder what it will be like in twenty years. Right now I'm still young, pretty, witty, etc. People might see it as a loss. In twenty years it could well be 'You do know *** ****** has died 'Who?'
'You know, the leary old bastard used to sit at the end of the bar.' 'Him? He should have died years ago. He's been no use to man nor beast the last ten years'.
I just have this idea middle age isn't kind to people like me. We're like lotuses. Gaudy and beautiful in their youth, then decay with a stench.
My younger sister is always obsessing about her age, and I just don't get it. Instead of worrying over what you're losing, why not get excited about all there is to do and see? The older I get, the more enjoyment I seem to be getting out of life.
I wasn't referring to Paris Hilton fame but rather the immortality you're seeking. Although I should keep in mind that my own dream is to be a published author, and I would be nice if my novels ended up on peoples' "keeper" shelf. But is it how I will measure the success of my life? Not by the half.
No Crushed, Love can make you happy.It can give you a goofy grin. In it's own self. A a paltry consolation prize?
Vicatiosrising and Sue make good points.
Don't get me wrong, I would certainly give real immortality a real good try, provided I had an opt out clause.
You feel emptiness? You got to worry about your hormones Crushed. I like to imagine I am reasonably bright, that I can examine my thought processes.
Why do you feel this emptiness you seem to suffer from.
So what exactly would fill the void? Fame? Keep it. It must be a pain being pestered by people if you try to go shopping, followed everywhere by scummy paparazzi. Maybe a nice big statue? A planet named after you?
Poor Ozzym... sorry, Crushed.
I'm sure you're more like a fine wine.. get better with age :)
Some of us actually get wiser!
You are back, I wish somebody had told me.
Everybody is a nobody. Famous people are just famous nobodies.
Great people in history are only names attached to memorized lists of accomplishments or words that fell out of their lips. They don't actually really matter. It's nice to read about them, but they live on paper or by word of mouth. Easily forgotten if one shuts the book or stops speaking.
In the end...it is the process of living your life that matters. It's who you've loved, and who loved you.
And in the final moment...everybody is alone when they step over the line that separates life from death.
Don't waste your opportunities Crushed. Life goes by too fast.
Sweet Cheeks nailed it.
In the end all we have are our experiences, Maybe if you can take anything with you it is those.
We leave behind the the memories and feeling others have of us
All those memories..
it's good to be able to access your blog again. i just want to live a worthwhile life ..
it might not be worth something to anybody else, but as long as i think it was worth it, my children .. my husband ..
that's all that counts to me. i don't even want a headstone. i just want my ashes blowing in the wind.
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