The world is at a dizzying standstill. All I can do is eat and clip my fingernails, while I grow and stagnate, expand and collapse, exerting energy in vain to bring the air into my lungs and grow eyelashes,  then pluck them off with heat. I have detritus, waste, bycatch, excess, growing and detaching, living and dying. I am a Monotony, a repetition of ****** functions which persist blindly, in spite of my sinking heart and my fleeting mind. I am dense with lint, heavy with lungs. I stand upright with my bones and gawk at the pallor which has overtaken my gaunt and plump adult face.