Death.

Death.

Death.

Death.

Death.

Death.

Death.

Death.

Death.

Life.

Life is short. Death never stops. People die everyday, the way people are born everyday. And we remember both of them differently. Because what else can we do? Death means sadness. Life means happiness. We've all come to associate one another. But for some people, death is happiness, and life is sadness, and suffering.

We don't suffer when we are dead. We suffer when we live.

But when we're dead we don't feel emotions.

We don't feel joy, love, anger, jealousy, ecstasy.

We are empty.

And while we get rid of the pain and suffering, we also get rid of the good moments, the ones worth living.

Is it worth living when our current life is a living hell?

Yes.

Because there is always a way out.

While we often think about death, we almost never think about life, except to remind ourselves that we only have one life before we pass away, fading into the shadows.

And by trying not to take life for granted, we take death for granted. We always take death for granted. Because we will all die at some point. It is not a crime to take death for granted. It is something we all do. And yet some take life for granted as well. Some just hate their lives.

But some live. Some enjoy their lives. They live for the happy moments, the moments worth living.

But what if there are no moments worth living? What if it is all pointless, and dumb?

What do we do, when we've lost our will to live?

That is the one question no one can answer, for everyone has a different answer, and must find it within themselves. Only they can know the answer to that question, and it is only valid for themselves.

But that is one of the beauties of living.

The diversity, the different point of views.

And while some may be horrible, and some be extremely bright to the point of being unrealistic, all of them are valid. All of them count.

We all count.