Yes – Preferably for something good!
Honestly, I’d like it to be for something I produced. A writing, my voice, maybe even my thoughts… But it should be something that came from me that wasn’t a child, lol!
I’m a firm believer that when we die, we die.
We may be re-incarnated a few times… our spirit may live on in some immeasurably way… perhaps as a figment of place memory… maybe as a whisp of smoke or a glittering snowflake…
But eventually we’re just done.
And all that’s left are the tangible things we’ve produced,
the memories people have of us,
the stories they tell about us,
the folks who knew us,
and the people who wish they did…
I really intend to leave a lot behind.
But fame is a double edged sword… People who want it but don’t have it would give anything for it. Those who have it, abhor it, and would rather see it dead at their feet… And the small amounts of fame I have garnered have proven unsatisfying in the end and the near misses have been nearly too painful to bear.
Yet – there’s nothing like the feeling of having a throng of people clamoring at your feet, sometimes begging for more, each of them either wishing they were you or could possess you in some way. Each of them wishing to be a part of you, at least for a moment…
Or the feeling of being recognized for all the hard work, suffering, or resources used to get where you are at that moment… That’s another fame-based feeling that is impossible to describe but addictive just the same.
But these feelings are akin to the feeling of standing up for those less powerful or knowledgable or well placed. It resembles the feeling of me stopping fights between burly boys outside of an old two-stepping shit-kicker bar when it was obvious the boy preparing to be curb-stomped was severely out-matched (and yes, I did end up kicking the victor into the street after a slight altercation – But I knew Katie had my back ;D ). It reminds of standing in the middle of the street, with thunder rolling and rain sheeting, daring the ex-marine, who’d slaughtered my fiancé’s kitten in a drug-induced haze, to just try to take me down – just try – and I would knock his dick in the dirt harder than he’d ever been knocked… and watching him back-pedal and retreat. It is the same feeling I’ve had every time I stand up for the people around me so deserving of spoils beyond number yet who are given a fraction of what they deserve…
It’s the same feeling of knowing that I can and will drag myself to the top of whatever mountain I face, sometimes by tooth and nail – often howling like a wounded banshee, with bloody knees and even bloodier feelings, dragging all the people I care about behind me with herculean strength of will and determination… Because I know that if we all don’t succeed, no one ever will…
But it’s also the same feeling I get when a little girl who has seen me talking at an event recognizes me and calls me out as “Ms. Hollie.” Or when one of our teen scouts proclaims me a rockstar, because I have the voice, the hair, the ink, the piercings, and the guitar(s)… Or when one little girl swears up and down that I, seriously, am “Linda” after having played Glenda the good witch at one of our lock-ins just a month or two prior (and here I thought I’d gotten away with that! lol!)… The feeling when one of my favorite scouts tells me that the part of the GS law that I represent to her is honesty, truth, and respect for myself and others… Those are also good fame-type feelings.
So fame is dangerous, it’s transient, and it’s satisfying…
So, yeah, I guess I’d like to be famous… preferably for something good…
Read Other Answers and Get Some Background in the Love Me or Hate Me… There Really Is No Middle Ground… Series Here.
Leave a Reply