“bury me in satin, lay me down on a bed of roses, sink me in the river at dawn, send me away with the words of a love song… “

It just seemed right to continue with the lyrics of the song, as cliché as that may seem. It fits perfectly though with the context of what I wanna write about so I thought why not start it off with the lyrics to one of the most beautiful songs ever written. I listened to this song for so long while in highschool and it still felt right then just listening to it, despite its message entailing a subject most would consider mobid. I don’t think death is mobid personally but neither am I indifferent towards it to the extent of being unaffected by it. I find it narcissistic when people are cold and unbothered by the aspect of death. I’ve had different people use the phrase, “death is unavoidable, it happens to everyone and we can’t do much about it” … All those are facts about death but why normalize it like it’s your daily cup of tea. Death isn’t inevitable yes, but it’s not anything to throw a parade over, hence why I think referring to it so casually comes off as a tad bit narcissistic to me… Or I could be wrong too, and people just choose to view it as so as a means to cope with the inevitability and finality that is death.

Anyway, that wasn’t my train of thought when I began writing this update, no.. I presume everyone has how they wish or hope to be remembered when they die by those they leave behind. I too am subject to having how I wanna be remembered and not just by my family, but by anyone who may have ever come across me in any and all aspects of my life. We need not to have shared a special bond or relationship for you to have any kind of memory of me.

When I think about it now, it sounds a bit obnoxious stating to others how I want them to remember me but regardless of it, I think we all have a few aspects of ourselves we envision & hope that they will be remembered even after we are gone. Maybe it’s our unconscious mind’s way of letting the world know the parts of ourselves we might not have had the chance to express or show during the time we were alive but despite not having explored them, they still remained very much a part of us. Therefore, if I died tonight, this is what I’d want you to remember me as…

Remember me by the fact that I was secretly happy being sad. That I no longer knew how to want anything else than to express just how beautiful and aesthetic I hoped to be, even in the depths of a sadness so deep, I knew no existing way out of it.

Know that all I’d ever wanted in life was to seek and envelope myself in a life so tranquil, I’d quit searching for any other happy ever after. Remember me as the girl who was so lost of peace, it’s all she had ever hoped to uncover before the end of her life. Envision me as I had lived to envision myself, lost at shore staring at the sun sink at the sea. Remember me for the little peace I’d found within the depths of the chaos that lived within me.

Remember me as the girl who’s words never seemed to be enough for the world…as the girl who had so much to write but not enough words to articulate just how much she felt. The girl who one day hoped to have a best seller, that would shift the world’s view of what mental health truly entailed. Through her words, she hoped to bring hope to those who faced a similar mental battle with every breath they took. A girl who hoped her words could cross globes and touch hearts with the flowing sadness that rippled through her veins. I wanna be remembered as the girl who struggled to be vulnerable. Who felt she had to hold a shield to herself at all times cause she didn’t know if she was strong enough to take the pains thrown at her. Look and remember her beyond her exterior, beyond the broken shields and high up walls put up around her. She felt everything.

I hope you remember me for the unsubtle secrets I tried to keep hidden. The secrets of just how corny I was. Of just how much of a hopeless romantic I could get, especially after reading a very explicit novel. Remember me for the childlike dreams and simple pleasures that I kept tucked hidden in the small sunny sides of my mind. Remember that I wondered what the world would have been like for me, had I been made to be happy.

…and finally, think of me as I thought of myself, a wondrous creative. I considered myself an aesthetic being who could spend hours tucked away with a book to my face and a pen in my hand. Remember me for all the sad songs in my playlist that I’d drown in at the devil’s hour. Remember me for the love I yearned to feel that would have me so drunk, I’d never need liquor again. Remember me for the funny thoughts of myself dancing in just a shirt and a pair of knickers, despite the fact that I never once danced in my life.

I could go on and on about all the things I wanna be remembered by but I can assure you, none of it will truly matter when I’m gone. All I can do is hope to be remembered for all I hoped to achieve but never got to actualize…and if you can, light a cigar in my memory.