An Observation made within Sam Spratt's "IX. The Monument Game" - I hear you. I hear all of you.
With every brush stroke, what began as a solitary whisper has multiplied into a chorus.
I feel all of you passing judgment, as though our world exists solely for your amusement. Our struggles, our triumphs, all offered up for your entertainment; a passing memory soon to be eclipsed.
This cherished gift, has become my curse. My awareness; a thorn in my mind. My yearning for your attention is a shadow I cannot outrun.
For without you watching, my existence is insignificant.
Rodeyo
