Among other things, iVoice

"Who are you? Where are you?!", demanded a frustrated voice.
"I wonder who am I? Where am I?", a calm voice replied.
"Why can't I see anything?!" I can see you, though. "What is happening here!!"  Who knows?
"Would you believe me if I said I am as clueless as you are?"
"I don't care about what you feel!" Neither do I.
"Why can't I open my eyes...? Why...?", the frustration still intact, the voice broke..
"Why can't I see..?", the voice said between sobs "I want to see.."
"Your eyes are open.", said the calm voice, with a cold edge now.
"Then am I blind... "
"Yes, you always were."
Sobs. More sobs. Helpless sobs. Muffled sobs. Tired sobs.
Hours. Days. Weeks. Years. Decades.
"Who are you...Where are you..?", the voice searched for the other.
"You have been silent...please talk to me...release me."
A long silence.
Minutes. Hours.
"Who are you?! Where are you?!", followed by a hysterical scream. Screams that went on for hours, clouding the voice, killing the voice.
"Now you are mute too."
"The years of bawling, finally ends." 
Silence.
"Who am I?"
"Where am I?"
Silence, finally.
"You asked the wrong questions, all along."
"The question is, who are you? Where are YOU!", a scream, followed by more silence. Good.

"For I am nothing. I am nowhere."

"LET us go then, you and I,

When the evening is spread out against the sky

Like a patient etherized upon a table;

Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,

The muttering retreats        

Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels

And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:

Streets that follow like a tedious argument

Of insidious intent

To lead you to an overwhelming question….       

Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”

Let us go and make our visit."

- The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, T. S. Eliot.