Aquarium

Inside.
You hear nothing but a monotonous background hum. Not even silence is pure...
You look out. Distorted figures around your concave dome. Colours flow. Eyes wide open. You stare but you don't move. You flow static in the still water. No temperature. No touch. No thoughts. Only little spasms that keep you awake and standing.
Someone or something comes closer. Outside reality is thick. Everything looks so exaggeratedly huge. Or is it small? Reality moves. What you see moves. Everything keeps moving. Only you stand still, staring inside this immense claustriphobic aquarium.
You try to move... Where to? Too small? You can't reach. You hear but you don't listen. The warm sound of voices dilutes in the quiet water. You look but you don't see. As the images continue to move disorderly in this huddle of blurred colours and shapes. You cry. But you can't feel tears coming out of your eyes (what eyes?) as they confound with the tepid impassive surrounding.
You stay. Blank. Lifeless. Resigned? You don't remember what it is to be out. You. You aren't even sure if you ever...
Hum...