Don´t blow it

This song, by Cliff Martínez, always gives me the same vision.

I'm naked, and I'm walking through a corridor. Like a hall in a house. The walls are white and sometimes I see pictures trapped in small frames-most of the time, the walls are empty. They're all b/w photographs-
Then I see myself, as if a camera begins to focus on my legs and moving up, and my hair drips water constantly. It's long hair, and I don't look as fat as I am.
I move my hands over the walls of the hall, leaving traces of water as I go by. I walk to find, well, nothing in particular. I'm just walking for it's own sake.
I walk as if I was supposed to find something, but I know that it won't happen. I'm so at ease, and I have a hunch, always, that I will face a test big enough to destroy me, but I'll be able to face it.
I imagine myself facing death, or a life bearing moment. Or both. Something that will determine the person I'm supposed to be.
Then I turn around, and smile at the camera, and probably laugh at my own fate. Then, the dream ends.