Surealisation?

It was a cold and dark December. From the rooftops I remember, there was snow. White snow. .I was just playing in the cold. I was off the beaten track. I was... Falling. And then. There was a splash, and I was back in real life, out of the fantasy. Escaped from the landslide, caught in reality. I opened my eyes, looked up to the sky's and, see. I'm just so rich, boy, got nobody's sympathy. Looked in the mirror, my eyes were so empty.

Water dripped, dripped, Dripped. Each one a memory? Maybe. the extractor fan hummed. Hmmm. So I took a step outside, peace, at last. Looked out the window. The sun was rising slowly, uncovering the silhouette of a spire above treetops and soaring birds. Behind me, inside, was my past, my present. The company I keep. Outside was my future. I looked out at my life towards the dawn, on the bright side. Down below, a copper helped an old lady cross the street. I smiled.
A thin glass ceiling stopping me from walking off into the sunset. This was puzzling. Wasn't I supposed to be out there, playing? How does this thing open? This isn't fair! The glass seems opaque. I turn and see a stranger beckoning for help. But I scowl, problems of my own, windows to open. Leaving the room, I try another window. Only to see the same strange outside, being helped across the street. The man turns and looks up at me. Shakes his head. His face, my own.
I close my eyes.
Sigh.
And smile...