He opens his eyes.
He wakes up every day at exactly the same time and performs the same manual tasks. Today is no different from yesterday, and tomorrow will be no exception. He begins to lose any grasp on the amount of time he has spent here. The outside is a boundless expanse of water, and he has no other place to go. The cold metal mass that was once the Korean Pavilion floats like a buoy on the ocean—and is the only place of sanctuary that he can call home. Once he completes his mission and brings this long period of solitude to an end, he could perhaps embark on a longer journey that could last for more than a day.