Youth in Asia

I don't want to be alive anymore

I don’t want to see what else is in store

Be it twenty-five or five

At not point did I want to be alive

There is no point in time

That I will ever change my mind

And even if I could

Does that mean I should?

Look, I get it

Some people regret it

And some people alive

will never forget it

I’m not apathetic

Just tired, I said it

So leave me in peace

My brain, I will bed it

It makes no sense at all

What we are told

A hundred seasons of fall

In a world forever cold

We don’t have the same brain

Same experience is not the same pain

Why live as long as you can

When you're still drowning in the rain?

We all die eventually

This is fact, not a pathology

The perspective of those that leave

Are dissimilar from those they bereave

When I am dead I am dead

It doesn’t matter the words left unsaid

If I die at ninety or five

It doesn’t matter; I am still not alive.

(Not only is death one of the few things that everyone will experience, it's also one of the few things that most people seem terrified of accepting. From the perspective of the one dying, their moment of death is the same regardless of when it happens. So why do people find it imperative to prolong that moment? Well, because evolutionarily those organisms that avoid death the best are those that tend to pass on their genes the best, and our genes and environment dictate our psychology. But are we humans mere primitive organisms that live just t0 spread our genes and live however arbitrarily long until the inevitable? People act as if death is the worst thing that can happen to someone, as if suffering is immaterial and inconsequential. There are far greater things than death, which will still claim you regardless. When your brain becomes a cage of permanent torture, and there is no escape and no relief, why should you endure that suffering when you will still die in the end? 90 years of torture, then death. Or just death. Which would you prefer? I know which one I do).