Start on a Monday. Wake up listening to the alarm clock. Yes. Listen to the beeping and chirping and the vibrating of your phone. “Wuurrrrrr, wuurrrrrr, wuurrrrrr” it says. It’s time to get up. It’s time to take a shower. Walk half-naked towards it remembering the dreams you used to have and notice you stopped having them. Your nights are empty and silent. Waking up is like a lost dream, where edges blur and clocks make little sense. Each step booms around you, echoing through your apartment in unison with the slowing heartbeat in your chest. You’re dying. Hearts aren’t meant to beat this slow.