Blinded to The World by the light in the carriage,
With no point of reference outside
I try to decide if we are moving or static,
Whether The World exists or not,
Then I realise,
As I stare out at myself,
That it does not matter
Only what Is matters.
Not the Journey.
Not the Destination.
Not the silent, invisible World.
Nothing.
Nothing matters.
I smile sleepily out the window
Staring deeply into the night,
Staring deeply into my eyes,
All the while staring right back.