I’m trying to imagine myself at the end of my life, which is hard because I like to think about the present and because I’m still so young. What’s my legacy? Will I leave behind a chest of riches in my will? I can’t say for certain, and its a long shot, but the wealthier side of my family most definitely could, but probably won’t. Will I have my name and picture all over old movie posters or written upon books and other creative works? Most likely no though it’s not too late to try. Will I always be remembered as the guy who figured out how to extend my tongue in order to lick my elbow? Perhaps if I get myself stretched out.
There’s no certainty that I’ll have anything to be remembered by when I reach the end of my life besides this blog that would be downloaded onto a high density SD card and buried in a time capsule with other stuff from my life. Someone could uncover that capsule, find the card, put it into some type of computer, maybe the obsolete tablet in 2125, and read about my life or what I did to try to impress bloggers on the Internet, which by then would be as easy as swiping at the air and bringing up webpages. They could then be led to all the other stuff I have left as legacies on the old net, such as my Facebook, Twitter, Google +, YouTube, Flickr, and now most recently, Vine account. They may or may not be impressed but most definitely could learn how my life was like in a world where traditional communication ceased to exist and a society of social outcasts have risen.
There has never been much consideration in my life to become famous, because I’m pretty content with my quiet lifestyle as it is and getting to do things without feeling bothered or the pressure to impress. I’m not saying I don’t ever want to be famous, because it sure is fun, but it seems so trivial when in the end we all die the same and don’t take the money or accomplishments with us to wherever we end up. And getting there involves burning some bridges, most of which I can’t afford to lose.
The only lasting legacy I could feel certain leaving behind would be my future kids (one named Liam, perhaps?) learning valuable lessons from me and knowing how to cope in their environment. One of the things they might learn from me is how to use the Internet in a safe and productive way and to avoid getting the deep depression that comes from the fickle nature of humans who ignore certain things and highly praise others. It’s not that important in the end. My other legacy to my kids would be them learning from me how to be good photographers and not waste a shot on anything. Look at the world like a photographer, see the shapes and lines, frame your scenes in your head or with your hands.
But the most important thing that I could very well be remembered by, maybe through my future ancestors, is all the lives I have inadvertently helped save by donating a portion of my blood-plasma two times a week for the last four years. There are people out there that are alive and well because of my heroic efforts, my unselfishness. Even if I am getting paid for my donations, I probably wouldn’t go through with it otherwise, it’s still nice to know there’s a part of me in a number of lucky individuals out there. That’s my legacy to the world, having helped sustain the human race. My life force literally lives in another person, copies of my own DNA mixing and mingling with others. Wouldn’t it be ironic if that person is my future wife?
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Don’t You Forget About Me.”
Imagine yourself at the end of your life. What sort of legacy will you leave? Describe the lasting effect you want to have on the world, after you’re gone.