I'm no longer communicating; I'm broadcasting. I'm not looking for dialogue; I'm delivering a monologue.  I'm delivering a monologue to no one. Why? I don't know. Maybe it's to pass the time or to entertain myself or to hear myself thinking. Maybe I just want to hear my own voice. What's the sound of one hand clapping anyway? Why do people talk to themselves or whistle in the dark? Are they ever really talking to anyone else? I don't think I'm looking for signs of intelligent life in the universe. It's too late for that. If any intelligent signal came back I'd almost be disappointed, I think. I've lost interest in whatever the universe has by way of an answer. Communication exists only obliquely, in listening in on other solitary broadcasts from individuals as distant from each other as stars, many of which have already flashed out. Once an exchange is begun everything is lost, everything becomes garbled & stupid & meaningless. We can only absorb what other people (is there really such a thing) have to share in absolute solitude. Why should that surprise anyone? We were alone before coming into the this world and we will be alone again upon leaving it. Eternity is a lonely place. Not a place, really, but an aspect of time. We can't share it with anyone. We can only experience it alone.
—M. Satai