Independence Day
I will be a hero.
I will do something meaningful. I will perform well so that they will be compelled to build statues of me. They will lay wreaths upon my tomb, they will have streets named after me. Airports will bear my initials, town plazas will have busts in my semblance. Provinces, schools, bridges, cockpits, arenas, grandstands, fields, expressways, residences, forts, camps, beaches, farmlands, churches, dorms, markets, terminals, malls, subdivisions, estates, hospitals, prisons, mountains, seas, the sky.
They shall not forget. They will always remember. They will think of me as if I was an angel sent to aid humanity. I will be a protector, a martyr, a visionary, an idol, a role model, a saint.
They would preserve my brains and my heart. My clothes and diaries in musuems. My words, in books and in their hearts. Schoolchildren will recite the poems that I have written in my youth. Anthems shall be made out of my poems, manifestos written under the influence of my thought. They will say, I am a genius. I am the epitome of humanity, the majesty of all creation, the beauty of human existence.
Ah, this five foot four, overweight, pimple-scarred sarcastic small town kid? But I bet you have dreams too. Nietzsche would be proud if you would not repress them, but announce them to all, so that the guilt may be expelled, from the fear that you have kept something so sinister in your heart all along.
I watched Trsitan and Isolde last night. Ah, I am King Marke.
