When they are actually dead—
The body no longer in control of soul,
Under the ground, mixing with the life there.

Or when the soul is no longer in control of body?
Like a dictionary with no meaning to be found in it.

For me, I think the latter is what’s worse:
When I can no longer feel anything, just like the unliving,
And just live for the sake of living,
Like drinking water without thirst.
No longer caring about anything—
Be it myself or others.
A journey with no destination.

When I see the clock
But don’t feel the urgency of time passing,
Yet feel good that another day has passed—
That’s worse.

Breathing just for living,
And not to be alive, is worse.

But the worst of them all
Is watching people around me play their characters,
And feeling out of character
In my own book.