Thoughts from a Conversation / by Amanda Liew

Black - Musings

He said he wanted to live a life worthy of a memoir.Isn't that what we all want? A life that's worthy and significant? Something that we can look back on when we're 80 years old and be proud of? But then I wondered: is it that we want to live lives that are worthy of memoirs? Or that we want to live lives worthy of someone else writing one? For me, it's the latter. I don't care who reads the story of my life. But to have one person want to spend enough time with me to hear the story of my life - to capture the moments that can't be excavated through my facebook, twitter, or blog - and then to turn them into a labor of love? Now that's true significance. I have big dreams and aspirations, that's for sure. But I don't think fame is one of them. We all claim that we want a voice, but for what reason? We say we want to be heard, but by whom? So why do I blog? Why do we tweet and why do we post? The flippant answer is probably attention. But I think it's deeper than that. There's still a feeling of catharsis when I post and know nobody will see it. There's still an urgency to get my thoughts down even if I know they are for myself. At least for me, I think I'm in some sense writing the outline of my own memoir - just a few pages here and there. So that maybe one day, someone will come along and I can show them the major pieces, but they can fill in the rest of my memoir themselves. We only share with the public what we wish. For some people like myself, that's more than others are willing to do. Very rarely are we able to convey something's full existence in one go. Instead we pick and choose and tailor down. Therefore, I don't think reading somebody's blog or following them on Twitter will enable you to truly know a person. Just like reading someone's memoir will only tell you so much. I suppose the only person who can truly know it all is the author of that memoir.