Someone has set down a plate of jelly before me, and I started to eat it. I don’t know what flavor the jelly is, or whether I have a desire for jelly, but I’m just eating it. Spoon by spoon, the jelly disappears. More and more, it becomes a part of me. Now, the plate is empty. I have eaten the jelly, but I hardly feel a thing. It might as well have been otherwise, that I not have eaten the jelly. Everyday feels this way: I go downstairs or to the canteen, I set a plate before me and I start to eat. I dig, lift, chew, swallow, and repeat the motions until finally the plate is empty. I take the plate to the kitchen, or to the collection area, and I leave it there. Then I walk off and I forget that I had ever eaten. All these motions of life are beginning to become senseless.