According to Greek mythology Thanatos, the god of death, is traditionally the brother of Hypnos, the god of sleep.

The beds are empty. I have an image of this bed, where I have once slept. It is a trace in form of a physical image – a photograph, but there is also the mental image, which is resting inside my memory. The beds do change, and so does my memory along with the advancing of time.

“…this life of ours is an incessant struggle with death. When Saint Paul said, “I die every day”, he is not expressing an emotion. The truth is that we do die every day, just as we are born. There is a continuous cycle of birth and death. This is why the issue of time affects us more than other metaphysical problems, which are rather of an abstract nature. Time as a problem is relevant for all of us. Who am I? Who are any of us? Who are we? Maybe we’ll find the answer sometime. Maybe not. Until then, in the words of Saint Augustine, my soul burns to understand this enigma.” (Jorge Luis Borges)