As the people who adore you stop adoring you; as they die; as they move on; as you shed them; as you shed your beauty; your youth; as the world forgets you; as you recognize your transience; as you begin to lose your characteristics one by one; as you learn there is no-one watching you, and there never was, you think only about driving - not coming from any place; not arriving any place. Just driving, counting off time. Now you are here, it's 7:43. Now you are here, it's 7:44. Now you are... gone.
Now it is waiting and nobody cares. And when your wait is over this room will still exist and it will continue to hold shoes and dresses and boxes and maybe someday another waiting person. And maybe not. The room doesn't care either.