Coma Lights by Black Hair Rolled In Dried Blood

“A man sets out to draw the world. As the years go by, he peoples a space with images of provinces, kingdoms, mountains, bays, ships, islands, fishes, rooms, instruments, stars, horses, and individuals. A short time before he dies, he discovers that the patient labyrinth of lines traces the lineaments of his own face.”
― Jorge Luis Borges, The Aleph and Other Stories

“Orlando naturally loved solitary places, vast views, and to feel himself for ever and ever and ever alone.”
― Virginia Woolf, Orlando

He sits in a small room listening to their conversations and speaking to himself.
They all listen, dying to answer their own questions. He watches his own likeness reflected in the broadcast on the screen and recognises no-one.

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