When I'm gone

Jumping on to the bandwagon (albeit very late at it), but I'll go ahead and say something about Steve Jobs:

I remembered when I heard about his death, and I thought, "eh, really? Did I hear about it correctly?". I wasn't much of a person to read over the news daily, so I wasn't aware on his health and all.

But I digress. See, what comes next after is perhaps predictable: people around the world talk about this one man - some praising him, some condemning him, but the keyword here is that they are TALKING about him - whereas countless other people die with nary a word being spoken of them, even if their death is what you would call tragic.

Take whatever you will out of his death, but one thing that got me thinking is whatever will happen to you when you're finally dead and everything. Will you be remembered? Or is your whole existence is to validate the living and breathing organism that was born, and then work, and then consume, and then die?

Sobering isn't it? So what the hell are you gonna about your life? How do you leave your mark on this world? Are you afraid on the prospect how you'll experience the magical process of death: one moment you are a living being, the other moment you're a memory?

I think being forgotten and having seen the brute of indifference is actually worse than being hated. Think about it.

Contributing to the world and the live of others is good and all, but I think at the end of the day, most of us just want to be remembered for who we are. Rest in peace Steve Jobs.

Or leave me way beyond empty inside
Awaiting my last day to arive
Way beyond empty inside
Awaiting my end to arrive