I think I am experiencing a shortage of ideas. I am running out of things to talk about. Good thing there are these kind-hearted people on the World Wide Web who understand that deficiency. I don’t want to abandon this blog and I want you to know that I am still looking forward my goal of making three hundred and thirty posts before October 2009 strikes in. I still have two hundred and five to make. That is a pretty challenge.
Talking about those kind-hearted people I mentioned earlier, they provide a list of topics which may sound interesting to both the writer and the readers. The question was “What do you want to be remembered for?” Simple, eh? Yet if you will analyze the closely, you are to find your own brand of monument.
I interpret this as something which has a little association with death. Like, what do you want to be remembered for when you’re gone but being seventeen, I think, a better question is what do you want to be remembered for when part ways comes in?
I want to be remembered as the girl who taught you that being out of control sometimes is the greatest feeling in the world, the girl who deals with global warming more than she does with her grades. I’ve lived a typical life, the kind which has a little poetry and a lot of party-till-morning ideas. I want to be remembered as the writer who wrote about everything sensible and insensible, the kind which made her world revolve around her blog and drowned herself to words whenever she is bored or happy or depressed. I want people to say someday that “It’s not the change that is constant. It’s Rhaingel,” though I know that I’ve been in so many turning points already that changed me completely.
I want to be remembered as the girl who doesn’t drink coffee or beer but is so much in love with chocolates, marshmallows and sundaes. I want to be remembered as the girl when she was seventeen. It’s not that I am afraid of aging. I know that I’ll learn more as I walk forward but there is something quirky about being seventeen that I want to be remembered this way. This isn’t final. I know that when I turn eighteen, I might say that I want to be remembered that way and forget about this seventeen thing. I know that after I graduate from college, I might say that I want to be remembered that way, the educated lady I always dreamt myself to be and dump the idea of being remembered when I was seventeen and eighteen. I change my mind so easily and so this isn’t final but as for now, I want to remembered as the girl who constantly finds herself trapped in delusions and fraud, the girl who sees all the ironies of life and calls herself sarcastic.
I project the happy-go-lucky girl among my friends, the kind who presses the play button of the music player and dances all night after hearing Beyonce hit that “Single Ladies”, never minding her Chemistry exams tomorrow. I want to be remembered as the girl who acts unaccordingly to her age, still fascinated about rainbows and snow, still in love with kids’ stuff like Ferris wheel and purple cotton candies and still believe in the tooth fairy and fat Santa Claus.
Lastly, I want to be remembered for my mistakes so that people will learn from me. I want to be remembered for my smiles, both genuine and sarcastic. I want to be remembered for my tears, the kind which made my eyes pop out. I want to be remembered as the person I am, that very person who made a difference in your life.