Pondering the deep,
oft repeated,
rarely if ever understood,
question from the protagonist.

Seared into my memory,
as my feet would carry me to a suburban bus stop.
While I was transported by round rubber wheels,
to a train station.
Where I was sent down the tracks,
in a metal box car on large steel wheels.
Only to begin walking again,
this time in a bustling city,
where no one looked at another in the eyes.
To a high rise tower,
and up a metal box pulled by thick cables.
Behind the laptop screen,
in an empty office.
Staring at the lonely bamboo stalk,
trying to survive,
in a clear plastic cup of old water.

To be, or not to be.