Had I wanted so desperately to be special, to have a purpose, to recover from the shame of not being able to keep pace with the corporate world that I had somehow fabricated the entire thing? And how would I ever be able to tell for sure? If we are all just hallucinating this reality around us, how could we ever really know what is true and real

if everyone remembered everything, would our differences get shaved away? What would happen to our sense of self? It seemed to me that a perfect memory couldn’t be a narrative any more than unedited security-cam footage could be a feature film.