You wonder what you might become yourself given sufficient time, enboxed here upon your back, in darkness except for a crack—still visible—at the other short-end of the room. Some floor-oriented shape; some human matting. Perhaps, bamboolike, you will find yourself slowly shooting towards it; your legs extending outwards with rhubarb-forcing cracks, or with new shoots forming, budding out of the heel and soles of your husk.
You have been a seed all along perhaps, with all the rest of humanity, none ever finding the correct conditions of being locked immobile in a dark place for years, a small source of light visible to grow towards.
Your torso and limbs, which you have exulted in, not knowing any better, are just bags of nourishment for the embryo they contain. You wonder if your seed would have a specific shape pre-programmed or if it would adapt itself, as its host adapted, to the environment it was formed within? Perhaps it would become imprinted with the shape of your eclosure, Mother Nook, becoming boxy and curtained in response; strong-sided but hollow.
Would this remnant need nourishment, if its role was as nourishment for the seed within? Perhaps people do not truly die of hunger, are immortal until such time as their seed can escape them.
The inevitability of it brings comfort. All has not been for naught after all. You determine that you will not be upset to see that part of yourself go. You wonder if this current self of yours, the thinking part, would travel along with it, or stay behind here to die. Perhaps it would have a choice. And yet, if you were to funnel yourself out and along this other shape and inner-contained thing, surely all would be unrecognisably transformed anyway.
Would the thing that you became even be able to think in the same way, or to experience as it has before, to actually continue in any real sense, without being utterly changed anyway? Perhaps that thinking-you would be just another seed within the larger, bodily one. Something that would stretch out and shape itself to become the mind of that new thing, no part of the seed itself remaining, yet the entire shape and purpose of the new eruption set and brought about by the shape you are now.