Okay, dear reader. Hear me out. You won't believe it, but I – the author of this page – am dead. Not physically, obviously. Don't be daft. I'm writing this, aren't I? No, no. My death was far worse than the cessation of heartbeats. I died inside. You know, my soul, my spirit, my self. My humanity. Everything that makes me living, as opposed to just dying. Capiche?
It was a harrowing experience. Actually, no, that's a lie. It wasn't as uncomfortable as one would expect dying to be. Sometimes it was even quite pleasant. It happened slowly, without me noticing. It just snuck up on me, gradually. I wilted like a flower without water, and before I could notice and put a stop to my death, it had gone all too far and I was stone cold dead. Now I'm not sure how to return to living again. Who knew that one needed to nourish life to stay living?
So why do I present this list to you, you ask? Well, it is meant a cautionary tale to remind you not to die inside. Without further ado:
The Uncomprehensive List of Reasons to Not Die Inside
(or: what happens when you die inside)