There are so many ways to die.
You could overdose on the things that give you temporary happiness.
You could get an adrenaline rush from the free spirited plunge
and feel the blow of the wind against your face,
heart rising to your brains,
before you hit the solid ground and
feel your blood slowly trickle out of you,
like a solid piece melting on the inside and spreading far and wide and covering everything in its path.
You could, also, cross to the other side
and ignore the loud beeps and horns,
but always, always, keep your eyes fixated on one point ahead of you.
And the most tragic and anticipating part is that you never know when,
something will just hit and crash into you
from either your left, or your right,
and you're just hurled straight off in the opposite direction of the force,
and you're flying, flying...
several seconds in the air-
before you drop and flip and tumble and crash,
and your beautiful eyes no long blinking but forever fixated beyond.
But the worse kind of death you could possibly subject yourself to
is one where you let others live your life for you.
You subject yourself to everything the materialistic world
asks of you; everything it tells you you need in order to succeed.
Oh! The wistful chase for paper and it's ill-gotten gains.
Day by day, you toil on and on
climbing rung by rung up the ladder
that seems to never reach the top.
Everything is mundane;
Everything is routine.
You're breathing but you're not living.
You allow yourself to be consumed by what is taught and expected of you.
You give up chasing your desire for experiences-
simply because they tell you paper is more important.
This is the worse, albeit physically not as painful, kind of death.
No sudden rush of blood to your head-
No hypnotic stare before anticipating the crash.
You just drag yourself slowly- day after day.
And then you die.
