Tired and beleaguered I find myself staring blankly at my reflection in the windows as we pass wearily by each pane's border with the next. I become confused and dazed by the image drifting before me.
Who is this person? Too familiar and boring to be interesting and too alien to be a friend. I find myself disconnected from myself as I stare at him and wonder, who is this person? What is he to me?
I gaze at the window blankly for several minutes while the conveyor belt ferries me down the long hallway. I look at him, through him and through myself, beyond the glass into the obstructed and dimly lit distance, until finally I reach the end of the belt and step off.
Who is this person? What have I been doing?
Who am I? What should I become?