Sleep is inevitable; death, too.
This essay explores sleep and death. How these two equally intangible worlds coexist and blend like fragments of a glitch, while simultaneously merging with night and darkness. We delve into infinite, kaleidoscopic images—grotesque and ethereal—from which we desperately yearn to awaken. Between literalness and symbolism, I attempt to answer the question: does dying feel like succumbing to sleep?

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