But, I'm not ready!

But, I’m not ready?
An hourglass stands against a black void, its upper chamber empty while the lower chamber fills with blue and white capsules instead of sand. Trapped among them, a skeleton presses its hands to the glass in a moment of sudden awareness. The pills function as both medicine and metaphor—what is taken in to cope, to numb, or to endure. Time is no longer measured in grains, but in what has been consumed, suggesting that what enters the body and mind may quietly determine what remains. The work reimagines memento mori through the language of ingestion, inviting reflection on routine, postponement, and the cost of what is allowed inside.