I am all alone in a group of people. Although people seem to recognize my existence, I don’t feel noticed. I could only glimpse occasionally at the softly swaying trees through the small, rectangular window to my left, when people did not obstruct my view. Everyone is speaking so animatedly with each other, yet why is the silence so deafening to me? It was as if I was only the shades of black and white in a mass of colours. Though I attempt to talk with some enthusiasm, trying to fit in, nobody seems to be listening or even glancing in my direction. And after a few endeavours, I merely start to notice how the sunlight reflected off the perfectly waxed hallway. I just went into a daze, listening to the frivolous chatter around me, yet not quite hearing it. But even if I’m uninterested in the conversations around me, I still want to belong in that warm and joyful group. Even if it’s only the shallow feelings that are easy to invoke, and quick to disappear, that are felt, I still want to belong.