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I had believed that it was just a matter of looking, of trying hard enough. But suddenly, finding a single person among the billions of people who have lived and are living on this planet seemed absurd. Perhaps it was naive to believe that people leave marks on the world, that we are not churned back int the earth like dead leaves in a compost pile. I had heard once that in a hundred millions years, all buildings will be gone. Paper will exist, but the ink will vanish, so everything will be blank. Eternal blankness - forever. Why resist if that is our fate? I didn't even know my own great-grandparents' names. They had lived entire complex lives, had careers, had created homes and raised children. They had wanted things. Their children had known about them, their grandchildren less so but still some, and I knew nothing.
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