When the curtain falls and the lights go out, what will linger in the room?
I think about it sometimes… the day I won’t be around to explain myself anymore.
You know, growing up I was taught that when people, especially people who are older than you, talk about you or talk to you about your wrongdoings, all you have to do is keep quiet and adjust your ways.
Just listen, take it in and change your ways.
But then, this moment in my life draws me to always ask myself, “what if I’m not there in those moments?”
What would people say about me? How would I be rated?
Funny enough, I see people who try so hard to make themselves look good in the eyes of others just so they don’t get bad remarks from them. They bend and twist themselves into a version they think will be accepted.
But truth be told, everyone will be talked about. Whether you do good or you do bad, people will talk.
Whether you are the best person on the planet or not, someone will still have something negative to say about you. You look fat, and they say you don’t control your diet. You look thin, and they say you don’t eat because you’re poor. You smile too much, and they call you fake. You keep to yourself, and they say you are proud.
It’s so endless.
But that’s by the way.
Honestly, I wish to be remembered for the level of impact I’ve made while I was present. I really don’t give much thought to how people think of me in the moment.
All I crave to do is satisfy my conscience, and make sure I do the right thing that makes my world a better place, even if it was just for one person at a time. That, I believe, should be the basis for what people remember me for.
I’ve always lived with the mindset that if I leave a particular setting and no one thinks about me without regretting that I left, then I really made no impact — which makes me dispensable.
I don’t want to live a life where a machine is better than me, since it can easily be replaced anyway.
When my curtain finally falls, I want the memory of my presence to still fill the whole room. No, not with noise or arguments about who I really was, but with proof that I lived, I gave, and I mattered.
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