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Does it every happen to you, that you die?
I don't mean the physical definition of dying, that can only happen once. I'm not talking about the heart stopping, brain dead kind of dying.
I mean when you die on the inside, in a philosophical level. The kind of death that repeats, and repeats, and repeats.
When you reach that point when you can hear your heart beating and you catch up mentally with the routine of your lungs breathing in and breathing out. When everything just doesn't seem worth it.
When you just don't care anymore.
It's then, when you are staring at the walls and thinking nothing, when you are writing things like this, that you know, you're dead inside. Even if just for a moment, there's nothing keeping you here.
And then you scream.
And you scream again.
And again.
And again.
And you start caring again, just enough for all to come back.
Everything just comes rushing at you, all the fears, the anger, the sadness; all those things that kill you just push themselves back into you, hard, merciless.
But you know you don't just give up. You know, that if they are coming back, there's a reason. You may not know the reason yet, but it exists.
Because it's that day, the day when the feelings don't come back to resuscitate you, it's that day that you'll know they'll never come back.
And then the clock of death starts ticking.
