Glass surrounds me. I stand here, watching the world pass me by without the slightest hint of cognition. Am I the outsider looking in? Or am I trapped so deep within, I choke even the sun?

There is beauty in this place, from time to time. Worlds that fill the heart with awe, that touch the deepest regions of the soul. People with hopes, dreams, and fears all their own, with triumphs and glories unique.

Yet if these worlds are but a product of my mind, a defense against the world outside the glass, what purpose do they truly serve? What good do they accomplish?

Am I keeping myself here, locked away?