From a gravestone in a deep S. Indiana woods. Forgotten. Overgrown, animal infested, broken in half and lying on the frozen ground. From the 1820s.
Remember me as you pass by.
As you are now so once was I.
As I am now you too will be.
Prepare for death and follow me.
In the academic world in a past life, I used to watch the egocentric professors wear their pride and achievements and presence on their sleeves like post WWII Russian veterans with their breasts full of medals. Look how great I am. Look at my knowledge. Look at my achievements. Look at how significant I am.
In the evenings, I would walk the nearby graveyard and look at the weathered names on the stones. What were you like, person? What did you do? Maybe you were one of these professors once. One weathered stone looks as another.
Now a long forgotten name on a stone and nothing else.