Well, I got all of that Archaic nonsense out of my system with the last entry, but I'm still bored as hell. All my friends are either on vacation or are busy doing something. I've actually considered suicide, I'm so bored.
Not, mind you, that I ever would.
In fact if I ever do end up dying, I plan to go out in a grand way, something people will remember for years to come.But that's (hopefully) not going to be anytime soon.
That's one thing I've noticed about people, no one wants to be forgotten. We all want to believe we matter, in some way. We want some sort of memorial, whether it's for, say, eating more hot dogs while skydiving than anyone ever thought possible, or simply for being able to something that no one else is capable of.
Which, by the way, is much rarer than what they tell you in grade school. Perhaps no one can have the same level of skill in all the things one does, but oftentimes, it is simply not the case.
We ARE ordinary, if for no more reason than that we are what defines "ordinary."
More and more often, I come just a bit closer to realizing just how un-extraordinary I am. Closer to realizing that, after I'm gone, how few people will even remember me, will know who I truly was, even if I didn't.
After all, who will care, in say a hundred years or so, how crazy, insane, or weird I acted? Who will care how much fun I had, or who I shared it with? Who will care how deep a friendship(s) I had when I was around to have them? Who will care who or what I loved, or hated, or just didn't care for? What will it matter what I did, and who will care that I did it?
Perhaps I'm asking the wrong question...
Why do I care?
Why should I care? Is it ingrained in us from birth? Is this simply part of being human?
I really don't see any reason to want to be remembered...Like all people, I've made my mistakes, and I have my shames. Sometimes I remember things that simply make me groan aloud at my stupidity. I suppose everyone else does as well, but the fact does little to alleviate the irritation of it.
*sigh* Great, I come to write and alleviate boredom, and I depress myself...Way to go, Jace.
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