5. *Death is not the End of me.

death; noun. the act of dying;  the end of life; the total and permanent cessation of all the vital functions of an organism.

My great-grandma lived till the age of 97; and died at the age of 103.  She died at the age of 97 and lived till she was 103. Thinking about them hard, both statements make sense. 

Or maybe not.

I don't know.

Is the definition of being alive; breathing, eating, and sleeping? Or is it hoping, doing, dreaming, and even loving? We've been talking in class about knowing you're going to die but not being dead yet.  My brain is in shambles because I never know where to begin when talking or thinking about death. 

When do we consider ourselves dead? Is it when we can't do the things we love and enjoy life or when our physical heart stops beating?  thump thump. I'm not dead but I'm certainly not living.

You can die and still be alive, but you're only alive till you die. It's like the math statement (the one thing I remember from great Mr. Carrillo's geometry class) of how a square can be a rectangle but a rectangle cannot be a square... How do you think the rectangle feels? My brain feels like its dead.  

Death, Death, Death.

Did that make sense? Any sense whatsoever. Or did it just leave you feeling how I feel while reading one of those indie posts that everyone who's anyone loves and I have no idea what the heck they're talking about.

Because in all honesty, it confused me just trying to think about it. And I'm okay with not talking about death for the next year, so I'll just stick with my opinion being we only live once. My little uncreative opinion. YOLO.