The paradox of living.

Nature photo taken by me.

Are you alive because you are dead,

Or are you dead because you are alive?

This shower thought of mine left me speechless.

I asked the thoughter what they meant by this,

And it went silent. 

Restless, I began to dissect it.

Are you alive because you are dead?

You are currently dead, yet alive.

What could possibly have died for you to live?

Is it the sadness in your heart?

The anxiety of being in the world?

The rage and embarrassment?

Or the fear of being seen?

All those emotions that hold you captive,

Have they finally lost their grip?

Smell the flowers. No one cares.

Say hello to that person.

Laugh a little louder.

Let yourself be seen.

For you are alive, yet beautifully dead.

Are you dead because you are alive?

Yes, you go to work early in the morning

And return late in the evening.

You look at your phone all the time,

Leaving no spaces between

To observe the world.

You wake, you work, you sleep,

Only to wake and do it all again.

You do all it takes to stay alive,

But you are already dead.

When did the days become so indistinguishable?

When did living become something to get through?

When was the last time you smelled the flowers?

Or said good morning to the person next to you?

How can you say you are alive 

When all the things you do are symptoms of dying

Or death, even. 

So once more, I ask:

Are you alive because you are dead,

Or are you dead because you are alive?