TILL THE END...

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For Some People staying alive is a conscious decision. Life doesn't just happen to them, they don't just wake up, they pry their eyes open with their will, morning after morning.

Being happy is a decision, mostly facades. Because everything around them speaks of gloom. So they invent tales in their heads, situations and experiences that help them forget for a while. Not falling into the throes of depression and staying there is a lot of hard work. The knockout life gives them is enough to keep them down all round the year. But somehow, they keep snapping out of it, they keep rising.

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For such people as these, they're the real fighters. But it gets tiring and draining, throwing the punches, taking the blows, falling and rising again, over and over. It gets tiring, and how long before we can't rise from the ground again?
We fight with every last ounce of strength, we fight. Keep going. Not minding the fact that there is no more strength. Let the pain come. We look to the sun only. Out from the long tunnel into the light. We have to reach it, or die trying. Even if it takes the last breath.

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Yes, that's when we stop. When there's no more breath. When we're suspended in the air above our bodies. Looking down. Being pulled by chords stronger than bonds. That's when it's over.

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When it's really over.