If the digital clock made noises I would memorize them all, organize them in order of loudness and endurance. The numbers never change. The music in the background floats. Each song is noticed. Shuffling the songs doesn’t make them more interesting. They are all the same. Nothing changes. Each detail in the room is recognized. For every look there’s nothing new to see. They don’t move. Every light flickers. The atoms move. They vibrate. They live. Supposedly.