I think I died at least twentysix times until now. 

I cant remember any. Or what it felt like. Or why I died. 


When I say I died, I dont mean physically. Do I believe in death? Debatable.

Do I believe people die? Yes. All the time. Most of us are not even aware of it. 

Most of us call it "growing up." 


"Its high time you grew up, T."

"Life is not a fairytale."

"You are unable to live in the real world."

"Thats not how real world works!"

"What world do you live in?"


"Growing up" means not "living in a fairytale", but "living in the real world". 

I dont know what makes a world real. Do I believe in real? Debatable. 


So when I say I died, I meant I stopped living in a fairytale, I lived in the real world, 

I adapted to the real world.


Now that I am thinking about it, every time I died it was brief. 

One day maximum. Every time I was dead for a day.

 It is like a daytrip; I trip and I die.


Dying felt like lying down paralyzed.

Thats all I have to say about that.

 

We keep dying in order to live, and live to die.

 Life is just one big fucking funeral. 

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