(found, but I forgot where)
That’s one of my least favorite questions, to be honest, just because it always strikes me as so unnecessary. Who cares what I want? Who cares about the things I care about? Certainly not the world. Certainly not the universe.
Of course I want to be successful. Of course I want the money and the fame and the family – or at least one of those things. To be honest, if I don’t get the money or the fame or the love, I won’t be happy at all. One would be enough, but then, none wouldn’t be too devastating.
I know you want me to be altruistic and say I want a brighter future or world peace or for all the children of the world to gather together and join hands in peace and harmony, but I’d really like to be rich or famous or in the passionate throes of some deeply destructive love.
But here’s where I want to mess things up, to be honest. Here’s what I never understood. Want is such weak word. It’s boring. There’s this other, much more important want. An ultra-want, a want that – if unfulfilled – leaves you spiritually broken rather than just unsatisfied. It’s more than just desire. It’s desperation.
Because, really, I want none of that, at least not in that desperate sense. If I die penniless, hated or forgotten, if I die as a beggar, it won’t make any difference to me. Dying alone and on the street amounts to just about the same as dying in the arms of a loved one on a set of silken sheets. It’s all death, and death’s all the same. So I don’t care about any of that, to be honest.
I want, and I want desperately, to be remembered, not by everybody, not by anyone in general. I just want to be remembered by someone specifically. I don’t really care how or why, to be honest, but I’d like it if just one specific person doesn’t forget who I am. Maybe there’ll be more as time goes on, but right now, I’ve only got one person in mind. I just hope that he doesn’t forget me before I forget him. I know it’s pretty much impossible, but I just hope that he doesn’t forget me ever.