Stories will live on forever. Anything you’ve written may be read by someone in eighty years, and as they flip through the aged, yellowing pages of your once pristine notebook into which you’ve poured all your victories and failures, joys and sorrows, love and resentment, laughs and cries, triumphs and embarrassments, this person will live to tell your story to others.
This person will flip through your life from your perspective. Everything will be unfiltered because you have written it. It’s not a remake. It’s original. It’s yours and it’s authentic and true. They will feel what you felt, they’ll gain knowledge of the life you lived and shared into these now-tattered pages.
They will live your life in the chapters treasured in your worn-out journals.
Whether what you’ve written is fiction or not, it is the creation of your mind that composed it, and your mind is a significant part of you and shall live on in people’s conversations for a very long time. The memory of you is immortal.
So, you have a pen and a piece of paper.