I was deliberate.
My very own thoughts were built mostly on that fact as the window continued to give me information and my empty head continued to let it drain away. The two snippets that stuck and provided a base upon which my mind could grow were my own strength and the fact that my existence was intentional.
I had been created.
I could not navigate the feelings caused by this knowledge, despite them being few and fleeting. More memories were given to me, and over time I learned that they were both mine and not mine. The memories belonged to the brain to which they were given -- my brain -- but not to the body. I knew nothing of my body except its strength.
I did not know the passage of time. I became aware of a presence on the other side of the window, and I knew that sometimes it was there and sometimes it was not, but I did not know what it was. I took the information I was given and pondered its presence, though I could conjure very few thoughts toward it, and indeterminate feelings. I realized I might be curious.