Everyone is ugly

The train rolls through the tunnel, loud and quiet, packed but lonely. Close up everyone is ugly.
My brain sits within my scull. Information feeds it like rivers to the sea. It never fills.
I can feel my bones, muscles, skin, a slight throb in one of my teeth, my neck is sore from slouching and my earphones are uncomfortable but turned off.
As I move forward along the tracks time moves further still. As I collect more and more stuff, time takes more things away. I think of those that came and died before me, those that are dieing right now. What is their last thought? When will I think mine?
The breaks squeak to a halt, the door opens, some get on some get off, the doors close and the train moves on. When will I get off this train? I turn on my player but it’s not really on. The train rolls through the tunnel, but not really. It’s loud but quiet, packed but lonely. Close up everyone is ugly, but not really.