Please don't wish me a happy birthday.
I'm seventeen now, and I feel -feel free to laugh; I am fully aware that compared to most people on the planet I'm not - old. This is very strange to me, because I'm the type of person who doesn't see the point in birthdays, and tends to forget both hers and other peoples'. Why should today, November 17th, be significant? It's only the day after yesterday.
Enough of that.
Awhile back, I don't remember where, I was reading a thread on a online forum and one of the things that came up is how you'd like people to remember you after you're dead: Would you rather be notorious or sink into oblivion? The answers surprised me.
Personally, I'd rather be remembered by a few people who I was close to in life as I am, in whatever way they might describe that, as opposed to being known to everyone for doing something horrendous. I would never want to do perform an act so bad that I am widely known for it. And since the people I am close to are the people who matter in my life right now, why should others matter in death?
But my thoughts were not shared by the majority. The posters seemed afraid of their names slipping into the lists of people no one knows existed. They were afraid that they would live their lives for nothing, and thus be pointless.
The thing is that most people don't make history. Why the terror of normalcy? I mean, I would not like to be remembered like many people do Adolf Hitler. I'd rather simply drop off the map and disappear after those who knew me are gone too.
I guess it comes down to the whole "meaning of life" thing.