"[B]ecause the streets were crowded, I bumped
into a googolplex people. Who were they?
Where were they going? What were they
looking for? I wanted to hear their heartbeats,
and I wanted them to hear mine."
From Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer (one of my all time favorites)
Who are these people? What's their story? You both want and don't want to know. It's a paradox, like when you say learning about your favorite actors' personal lives ruins their movies, but you read gossip magazines anyway (or is that just me?). In the end, you like looking at people you don't know, mesmerized by their beauty from a distance without knowing their insecurities and heartaches. Instead, all you see a fashionable enigma. You think to yourself, "This one might just have it all figured out." (especially with pics like these on The Sartorialist)
So I went over to the mosaicist, watched him for a while, and then I told him, 'I envy you.'
"I always knew," he sighed, "that if I waited long enough, somebody would come and envy me. I kept telling myself to be patient, that, sooner or later, somebody envious would come along."
"Are you an American?"
"That happiness is mine."..."Do you want to take my photograph, too?"
"Do you mind?"
"I think, therefore I am, therefore I am photographable."
"I am afraid I don't have my camera with me."
"Well, for Christ's sake, get it! You're not one of those people who trusts his memory, are you?"
"I don't think I'll forget that face you're working on very soon.:
"You'll forget it when you're dead, and so will I. When I'm dead, I'm going to forget everything-- and I advise you to do the same."
Excerpt above from Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut
"What about little microphones? What if
everyone swallowed them, and they played
the sounds of our hearts through little speakers,
which could be in the pouches of our overalls?
When you skateboarded down the street at
night you could hear everyone's heartbeat, and
they could hear yours, sort of like sonar."
-Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer