As I look at the words in this blog, as I read the pages on my journal and look at the art I try to create everyday, I wonder. I wonder how will future generations look at us. 70, 100 or even a 1,000 years down the road, will the anthropologists, historians, and scholars of the future look at us as the civilization that destroyed the world or will they look at us as the civilization that prevented famine, diseases, and the destruction of our environment? Will they look back in time from a beautiful blue planet or will they look back in time from a dark and polluted city, as the ones I see in the sci-fi movies?
I wonder if my language will survive the test of time or it will be hieroglyphs to be deciphered. Will "they"- whoever they are- read my journals and wonder what kind of person I was? Will "they" look at our plastic surgery trend as a rite of passage or will they look at it as mutilation, just as we look at the golden lilies of Chinese women from the 19th and early 20th century? Will "they" look at my journals or the words in this blog as a statement of who we were? And if they do, what kind of message do I want to pass along?
If my words ever survive time, I want them to be a record of my good deeds. If I am not remembered at all, I still want to leave the testimony that I can rise above our differences, that I can be kind, neighborly, and most of all forgiving. I do not want fame, I do not want recognition, what I really want is to know that I made a difference in someone's life.