SOMETIMES

Alive, But Dead

It's more than odd that we sometimes reach a point of mental state that we start believing we're dead. We are well aware of the blood rush in our bodies and the beatings of our hearts, but that's about it for the "living" part. At least, to us. Because it's us that are in our own head, not others. Because it's us that feels every bitter feeling and the sweet sensations, not others. Because it's us that goes through all that goes through our heads all alone, not others. It's us, and us alone, and us only. But when we get too much of that, and all of these extremity , and more, then we die-at least to us. Simply, because everything in our existence and its nature, has an extent. When that's overpassed, that human beholding them dies. Or at least, it feel so to them. The bitter part in all this is not being a living dead, it's not that there's no one to care, it's not we are no longer fitting anywhere. It's that when we are so used to these that they're no longer a sign of the dead, but a part of us, and we're seen alive again, so we're helped. These helps of restoring our lives back when we're already used to the dead is the most dreadful of all. Not because we're broght out of our comfort zone and what we're used to, but because only then we'll feel how unfit we are to the lives of the humans and the living. While dying and being dead the aim was to become alive again. But when we are indeed alive again, all aim is lost. All meaning is lost. All life is lost. We're just there. Alive. Floating. Dead.