La Jetée

frankly, i too, would accept the ways of a visitor i’ve named as my ghost, as a natural phenomenon. how he comes and goes, exists, talks, laughs with me, falls silent, listens to me and then vanishes. *“nothing sorts out memories from ordinary moments. it is only later that claim remembrance, when they show their scars.” * “the man doesn’t die, nor does he get mad. he suffers. they continue.” “they have no memory, no plans.” “he understood there was no way to escape Time, and that this moment he had been granted to watch as a child, which had never ceased to obsess him, was the moment of his own death”