Who Am I?

3

Where did all this knowledge come from? Why do I know so much?
I don't know anything, and yet I do. My brain is working, thoughts keep coming, filling my mind, and I'm straining, trying to keep up.
The thoughts seem so real, but yet so fake, like they aren't mine.
Why do I feel like I know them? Whoever they are. Why does that house look familiar? Why am I drawn to these skeletons?
Why does only one of them seem to notice me.
Why doesn't he see me? It's like he knows I'm here, and yet knows I'm not.
He looks right through me.
But he's aware of me. He looks through me, but at me.
He hears the sound of my feet on the snow. Who is he? Does he know who I am?