"Why is it we want so badly to memorialize ourselves? Even when we're still alive, we wish to assert our existence......We put on display our framed photographs, our parchment diplomas, our silver-played cups; we monogram our linen, we carve our names on trees, we scrawl them on washroom walls. It's all for the same impulse. What do we hope from it?
Applause, envy, respect? Or simply attention of any kind we can get? At the very least we want a witness. We can't stand the idea of our own voices falling silent finally, like a radio running down."
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I like to observe people and things around me silently sometimes. Sometimes I will immedia