Where does a man go when he fades? I know well that nobody cares, but to the mindful they wonder where he could’ve possibly gone. One day he was here clear as the sun and loud as a rocket, now he is a blur from everyone’s memory, faint as a whisper. Who is that man? That man is all of us. The lesson? Don’t sell your soul to the world because the world does not care. It turns out those who often fade into the blackness are much happier than when they were clear to the eye.