Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Deeper than I wanted. . .

I apologize Right away about the morbid nature of this post.  I also don't mean to put out there any suicidal inclinations, promise.  I want to bring up my obsessive thoughts on legacy.  I don't know why it is so important to me.  Mayhaps its the possibility that I won't have children or maybe its just the American upbringing.  The thoughts of what I will leave behind or if my name will last are always pervading my conscience.  I don't ever want to be remembered as that barback at the gay bar nor would I want my funeral be occupied by family and a smattering of queers.  I don't want anyone throwing themselves from a building clutching my picture mind you, but I want some lasting impact.  I want the thoughts in my head to have some effect on the world I leave behind and hopefully even mentioned in a text book.  Now, if these are delusions of grandeur then so be it, let my life amount to the education of the future.  I find no qualm in that.

If the group mentality that surrounds me catches ahold of me and the "its supposed to be fun" lifestyle has it way I hope I still struggle.  I want to strive so that in the future there will be conferences of people enjoying my work, there will be gilded auctions of people fighting over garments I made and wearing them to lavish events, I want my plain name to stand out.  Is that desire lost on my generation?  This preoccupation of making something more than myself?  Its a desire.  Its a need.  So strong sometimes that the anxiety of it catches in my throat and stomach.

I really hope that its understood that wealth and maybe status accompanied with it aren't my goal.  I'm not dumb though, I wouldn't argue wealth nor luxuries that come with it, but that isn't my focus.  I just want to be more.  I want to leave more.  I want my philosophies and ideas, my passions and talents to be remembered and last.  To be my children I guess.  My legacy.

Try finding someone to share that with. . .


No comments:

Post a Comment