Ramble Rouser
So if I died, what would happen?
I was thinking about it; trying to imagine what people would say, how they would react.
As I have no significant other, nothing dramatic or too heart-wrenching. Yes I have family and friends, and yes they would be hurt, and sad, but..
I might get and article, in the newspaper, about my death, and a funeral, and people would play out their respective roles. But it wouldn't be world-changing. I'd just be another of the countless dead. The many lost who have virtually no impact.
What would they say? "He was loved. He was kind, caring, and brought joy and happiness to those around him."
Sound familiar? That's what they always say. Is that all I accomplished? Is that all I deserve? Is that IT?
Fuck that! I would rather go down in a storm of bullets, taking as many people with me as possible. Have them really talking about me then. "He was troubled, violent, and for reasons unknown to us, he went out in a blaze of havoc and destruction."
A blaze of glory is more like it. I would much prefer the infamy of being a notorious killer than just "a nice guy." I wouldn't be faceless, not like the millions, no sir.
But you know, what does it matter? So you fade. So what? You can't immortalize yourself, no matter how hard you try. It's not that important, really; the number of people that know about you. It's how much you do, whether anyone knows or not, that really matters.
So what is important? What am I supposed to do? Why?
I guess that's the richness of it, you don't know, you get to figure that out as you go. And if you die before you do, well, shitty.
Death. Heh. You know it just occured to me how similar it is to love. Death and love man, it's all we got. Let's make the best of it.
...
Pssh. You know what? I was talking to Ms. Lucas the other day. I was real nice. Warm, even.
RAH!
You know what really pisses me off about her? Do ya?
She could be just... She could be such a wonderful person. She was raised right, she's smart, she's nice, she's got it all. But she's weak. So weak. The kind of week that leaves a bad taste in your mouth and makes you want to spit.
She just gives up. She sits around and fools around and acts like a total ditz. It's so damn frusterating seeing her pretend to be so damn stupid.
So why do I say this? Is it my sick way of defending my ego? Is the real blow the fact that she gave *me* up? I mean, maybe I've let the act go too far and actually become that much of an egotistical bastard.
Whatever. Bottom line, she annoys the crap outta me.
...
Well I'm outta shit to say. I'll see ya.
I was thinking about it; trying to imagine what people would say, how they would react.
As I have no significant other, nothing dramatic or too heart-wrenching. Yes I have family and friends, and yes they would be hurt, and sad, but..
I might get and article, in the newspaper, about my death, and a funeral, and people would play out their respective roles. But it wouldn't be world-changing. I'd just be another of the countless dead. The many lost who have virtually no impact.
What would they say? "He was loved. He was kind, caring, and brought joy and happiness to those around him."
Sound familiar? That's what they always say. Is that all I accomplished? Is that all I deserve? Is that IT?
Fuck that! I would rather go down in a storm of bullets, taking as many people with me as possible. Have them really talking about me then. "He was troubled, violent, and for reasons unknown to us, he went out in a blaze of havoc and destruction."
A blaze of glory is more like it. I would much prefer the infamy of being a notorious killer than just "a nice guy." I wouldn't be faceless, not like the millions, no sir.
But you know, what does it matter? So you fade. So what? You can't immortalize yourself, no matter how hard you try. It's not that important, really; the number of people that know about you. It's how much you do, whether anyone knows or not, that really matters.
So what is important? What am I supposed to do? Why?
I guess that's the richness of it, you don't know, you get to figure that out as you go. And if you die before you do, well, shitty.
Death. Heh. You know it just occured to me how similar it is to love. Death and love man, it's all we got. Let's make the best of it.
...
Pssh. You know what? I was talking to Ms. Lucas the other day. I was real nice. Warm, even.
RAH!
You know what really pisses me off about her? Do ya?
She could be just... She could be such a wonderful person. She was raised right, she's smart, she's nice, she's got it all. But she's weak. So weak. The kind of week that leaves a bad taste in your mouth and makes you want to spit.
She just gives up. She sits around and fools around and acts like a total ditz. It's so damn frusterating seeing her pretend to be so damn stupid.
So why do I say this? Is it my sick way of defending my ego? Is the real blow the fact that she gave *me* up? I mean, maybe I've let the act go too far and actually become that much of an egotistical bastard.
Whatever. Bottom line, she annoys the crap outta me.
...
Well I'm outta shit to say. I'll see ya.