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?






