a dream monitored by a clock

That moment of pure and absolute inexactatude. The ambiguity is endless. The sense of loss is undesirable. Seemingly forever. When you're no longer in control of your fate, you're lying helplessly in the hands of someone else. Something else. Your heart exposed to the ruthless cold blade of life. Of death. Of change. Everything starts to remind you, nagging like the ticking of a clock destined to stop. It's too much. tick. tock. stop.