TM Prompt 305
TM Prompt #305: Write about something you've outlived.
My mother? My home? My fiancé? My nuggets?
Take your frakkin' pick.
Outliving someone or something isn't a fact to be proud of, okay? I know because I've done it, and it sucks. All it means is you're around and they're not. There are no prizes handed out if you outlive somebody. No one gets rewarded for making it to the finish line ahead of everybody else. I think it's mostly luck that decides who's going to make it and who won't, to tell you the truth.
Which I guess brings me to another question: am I lucky? Hell if I know. Sometimes I think it would've been easier, getting nuked like everybody else. At least those people never suffered. They never had to make some of the shit decisions I've had to make. They never even knew what hit 'em. Just a bright flash and then it's over. That's the way I'd like to go. A bright flash, and then I'd find myself in the afterlife. Or wherever the hell you actually end up when you die. I'd like to go out with a bang. Seems like a good way to do it.
More than likely I will go out with a bang. Some Cylon someday'll get lucky and that'll be the end of me. Just like it has been for so many other people I've known. Then people will outlive me. Lee or Sam will put my picture up on the memorial wall. I'd like to go next to Kat. Dunno why, but when I think about it, that's always where I am. I mean, not that I see myself after death but ... oh, this is frakking complicated. Just put my picture next to Kat's.
And even if they find Earth or some other place to plunk down so we can get off this battlestar, there will be some people who don't make it. A lot of people won't make it. Because that's how the game works. Some people are lucky and some aren't. Parents outlive their children and husbands outlive their wives and everyone has to bury somebody sometime, and then they'll be able to say they've outlived whoever that is. I feel like the way this is phrased, we're supposed to be proud of that, but like I said, it's not something to be proud of at all.
Sometimes ... sometimes I think I might ... no. That's stupid. Too stupid to even say and this whole damn thing is probably stupid anyway. I know where I want my picture to go. Some people don't make plans like that, but I do. I have lived with death since before the Cylons destroyed the Twelve Colonies. I've eaten with it, toasted to it, slept with it. You really don't want to make a habit of that if you can help it. It's frakkin' depressing. But when you live with death, you're almost prepared for it. You learn not to be scared of it. It's a funny thing.
Do I wish I hadn't outlived some of the people I've outlived? Sure. But you can't go dwelling on that. Fear gets you killed, anger keeps you alive.
I'm gonna stay angry.
Muse: Kara Thrace
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Words: 533
My mother? My home? My fiancé? My nuggets?
Take your frakkin' pick.
Outliving someone or something isn't a fact to be proud of, okay? I know because I've done it, and it sucks. All it means is you're around and they're not. There are no prizes handed out if you outlive somebody. No one gets rewarded for making it to the finish line ahead of everybody else. I think it's mostly luck that decides who's going to make it and who won't, to tell you the truth.
Which I guess brings me to another question: am I lucky? Hell if I know. Sometimes I think it would've been easier, getting nuked like everybody else. At least those people never suffered. They never had to make some of the shit decisions I've had to make. They never even knew what hit 'em. Just a bright flash and then it's over. That's the way I'd like to go. A bright flash, and then I'd find myself in the afterlife. Or wherever the hell you actually end up when you die. I'd like to go out with a bang. Seems like a good way to do it.
More than likely I will go out with a bang. Some Cylon someday'll get lucky and that'll be the end of me. Just like it has been for so many other people I've known. Then people will outlive me. Lee or Sam will put my picture up on the memorial wall. I'd like to go next to Kat. Dunno why, but when I think about it, that's always where I am. I mean, not that I see myself after death but ... oh, this is frakking complicated. Just put my picture next to Kat's.
And even if they find Earth or some other place to plunk down so we can get off this battlestar, there will be some people who don't make it. A lot of people won't make it. Because that's how the game works. Some people are lucky and some aren't. Parents outlive their children and husbands outlive their wives and everyone has to bury somebody sometime, and then they'll be able to say they've outlived whoever that is. I feel like the way this is phrased, we're supposed to be proud of that, but like I said, it's not something to be proud of at all.
Sometimes ... sometimes I think I might ... no. That's stupid. Too stupid to even say and this whole damn thing is probably stupid anyway. I know where I want my picture to go. Some people don't make plans like that, but I do. I have lived with death since before the Cylons destroyed the Twelve Colonies. I've eaten with it, toasted to it, slept with it. You really don't want to make a habit of that if you can help it. It's frakkin' depressing. But when you live with death, you're almost prepared for it. You learn not to be scared of it. It's a funny thing.
Do I wish I hadn't outlived some of the people I've outlived? Sure. But you can't go dwelling on that. Fear gets you killed, anger keeps you alive.
I'm gonna stay angry.
Muse: Kara Thrace
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Words: 533