Do you think you’d be lonely without the company of your own face? To not know what it is to another. To feel so caged within yourself, to not know your own expressions or know they are a comfort to someone out there. Even the most inexorable vial rage can not seep through. Every person that looks at you sees a mirror to project what may or may not be there. You simply become an empty vessel for a self involved world. It’s there. I suppose your face is there, but there is nothing prospering among it.