Time is just a granpa clock with fishes instead of hands

Ok. I was listening to Placebo and this just flowed out of my hands. It's not lyrics, it's just a mental image in my head. And seriously guys I know it's mock week but who cares right? They're only mocking us. Writing is so much more important. I feel like I'm spamming this place so please someone else be a little creative... :p

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There is a door. I know I must open the door. Running slow steps like immersed in water. Reaching out. There is no one to hold my hand. No one to comfort me. There is a door in empty space. And there is an old clock, like the one grandma had. But it's mute, not loud like hers. Immersed in water. Fish swim where the hands would be. They are blind. I am not. I reach out. Empty space. And no one can take my place. I am running. The door is keeping its distance. This is not a dream. This is where I am. It is not a metaphor and it is not an existentialistic riddle. It is empty space. And a door. And a clock with fishes. The glass is cracking. The fishes will die if it does. The door is not cracking, I will do if it does. There is a doorknob that looks like an eye. It's burning now, flames in its large, adamant pupil. Is this the deal. Running? If I only could reach. But there is no one to take my place. The fishes are swimming, a sign of time passing. If they weren't blind they would love their magnificent colors. They would be having a rave party. Right there in the old clock with no hands. No hands are reaching for me. This is not a dream. And that scares me. Because dreams end when they come true, when they become reality. Dreams will always end. And maybe a nightmare will take its place. You never know. Time make you forget, makes you pretend like you have more. Like you don't know, like you were having a bad dream and now its over. And then it isn't. Pretending. I keep thinking someone will come and save me. But who can save me from myself? Running. Reaching. Watching with wide eyes. Eyes wide shut. There is nothing new. Nothing new under the burning eye. This is reality. This is the deal. Not asking any questions. Forget. Leave behind. Die.