It's A Great View from Here - Post-Sugarfree Musings

 I was recently asked to choose whether I would rather live forever in memory, or live forever in the literal sense, on the condition that it can't be both of course. Much to my surprise I picked the latter, and while one might think that the lure of being immortal in the physical sense may at first have that classic allure, we all know too well from cinema and literature how difficult real immortality could be. As Brad Pitt's Achilles purports, doing something great and lasting will echo down the halls of history, and that is what immortality truly is.

And that is how so many people will be remembered, a multitude of men and women who are destined for greatness for something that they did, or something that they left behind in the wake of their grandness. I watched the last Sugarfree gig, for example, and upon being asked by a friend how I felt upon the band's impending dissolution, I replied that it was ok, simply because the music will remain. Whether the band is still together is irrelevant: While they were here, they made great and lasting music that I will continue to listen to and sing along with on the radio whenever I'm nostalgic.

And that's the thing. I like remembering things. I am content watching history happen before me and recording whatever I can through film or the written word. I have a bad memory, and so I value the things I can remember, whether they are songs from a great band, or memorable letters and text messages. I like keeping candid pictures of my friends and family and capturing those slices of life that are gone too fast from immediacy. Those are the things I value, much more than the memory of me remaining, just because I know that whether I am remembered or not is out of my hands. It is no longer quite my business to worry whether people remember me or not, unlike my own memories which are my sole responsibility.

So I answered the question with an answer quite sure. I want to live forever, literally, just so I can watch history unfold in front of me, and remember all of that splendor for the rest of time.