It was a great weekend, wasn't it?
Yeah, well, now it's over.
Wearing this crown is my only comfort in the terrible finitude of the weekend.
Every day, I am reborn. And yet, each day that passes brings me closer to the end of all things.
It happens every week. Still, the weekend feels eternally distant from where I am, at this moment.
Now, we simply wait for the march of time to carry us to Friday.
And we will do this again and again, all our nine lives.