When All Is Said And Done…?
Posted on Dec 27th, 2010 at 3:14 pm by Megan in but seriously, Stuff I probably shouldn't share
Seriously, I am the worst blogger ever. I know all three adoring readers are desperately waiting for yet another tale from the pages of my super insane sex life, some sarcastic piece of wisdom that you’ll forget by dinner, or some otherwise witty antecdote about the hilariously chaotic life of this twenty-something but to be honest, I haven’t written anything because I don’t think I have anything worthy of reading.
I value and treasure my readers, though I may not act like it, what with calling y’all pervs and never consistently writing and all. And I want to be that funny, captivating girl at the party with the sparkly dress that you can’t keep your eyes off. Instead, I’m the girl who tripped down the spiral staircase, got a run in her stocking, and rode away on an ass because the white horse broke his leg on the way there. Get what I’m saying at all?
I’m not even “beautifully broken” or any other aliteration that sounds pretty and describes my insides. Plain and simple, I’m just fucked up. I’m dark and twisty and jaded and bitter and cynical and the opposite of everything a girl my age should be.
So I went to this funeral yesterday. Not even a funeral as much as it was a memorial because the family didn’t want to pay the expense of a traditional service. The people in attendance were as follows: The bitter ex-husband who kept trying to burn pictures of the woman with his cigarette, the two brothers who wanted to continue arguing over who’s fault it really was that she was gone, the daughter who truly seemed relieved, me and one other friend. And I think the two of us showed up just to make sure that someone was there in case nobody showed at all.
That terrifies me to the point where I had nightmares about it all night. This woman was far from perfect, but aren’t we all? I want to make an impact on the world; I want to leave this earth just a little better than it was when I came into it. I’m not saying I want droves of people lined out the door to say their final goodbyes, but I hope to god that more than an angry ex and a family so burdened by my existence that they’re happy to see me go come to wish me farewell.
A little self-centered of me, to turn an event for someone else into my own rant about fears and insecurities about the smallness of it all. I’d much rather turn this into something good. That way, years from now, not only can I look back at what I have done right in this life, but maybe one of her family members can smile, however slightly, with the knowledge that this woman motivated a change for the better in even just one person.
So, reader, I want to end this post with a question that I ask you to leave in the comments section of this page. How do you want to be remembered after you go and what will you do to make sure that happens?
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2 Responses to “When All Is Said And Done…?”
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You r out of ur skull; we all are. There is a hotness u’ve forgotten about. I call it Cortey Love hot….And you defiantly excrete it from within the depth of ur pores, like the pheromone, (from Greek φέρω phero “to bear” + hormone from Greek ὁρμή – “impetus”), enriched sweat that excites the boys around u. Woman’s lib. was high-jacked by the media to tell you your beauty is payed for in blood…Is This True????????
Happy decoding>>>>>
Im so sperital i can’t selp it!!!!!