AmmoReader
The clock struck midnight, indifferent to the date, measuring life in cold, hard seconds. October 20th. Rather than a celebration, it's an audit of survival. Four eras folded into one existence, tracing the evolution of a soul designed to be stagnant. The absence of celebration. The taste of cheap coffee. The bass of a club. The flicker of a dying candle.
A study on entropy, memory, and the variables we choose to keep when the experiment is finally over.
"The world expected more of me today than it did yesterday."
"I spent the daylight hours waiting for the variable to shift."
"The monsters who made it out."
"My eyes played tricks on me these days. Sometimes, in the periphery of my vision, I saw them."
Four fragments of time - my exploration of birthdays.