Against the truthfulness in death

Ever felt the lure of death? That urge to end your life then and there, often in a most spectacular way.

i hesitate to classify it as suicidal thoughts, as being suicidal implies a certain dissatisfaction of life as a reason to end it. The lure of death is not a reaction to all of life's disappointments, nor does it hold a promise of a better afterlife. But it tempts you with the truthfulness in the act of dying. Satisfaction guaranteed.

If you hurl yourself onto a speeding car such that it has no time to avoid you, you will smash the windscreen. The force of impact will send shockwaves through your gelatinous brain, rupturing the tiny blood capillaries and causing multiple haemorrhages across the cerebral sphere. You are thrown off the car as it screeched to a halt, your body is flung forward, hurtling in a parabolic projectile motion. The acrobatics in the air ends with heavy certainty as your body hits the tarred road. The final blow arrives as your head hits hard on the ground, cracking the skull and sending shards of skull fragments piercing into your brain. Your lungs are punctured by your broken ribs, your heart traumatised by the impact, and your spine has snapped. Your last breath escapes as your lungs collapsed. It's over, you are dead. Then. And there.

Thoughts like this surface inside me all the time. Be it crossing the road, on the overhead bridge, in a glass building, waiting for an incoming train, standing in a bus, or peeing in the toilet, morbid thoughts of worst-case scenarios bubble forward in excitement. It makes you feel that the difference between life and death is so precariously slim. One step, one touch, one jump, one turn, or one slip, is all it takes for you to cross over to the other side. i wonder if the ease of transition from death to life could be that accidental as well... We are familiar with tragic accidents resulting in fatalities. Likewise there are sexual accidents that causes life. But does that require the transition from a state of death to that of life?

It is my daily struggle not to succumb to these lures of death that has kept me alive so far. Life in this way is a struggle of not-dying, an act of anti-death. It is an act against the truthfulness of dying, an act to resist the certainty and purity that is within death, and put up with the lies of living. It is back to the basic survival cues of warding off death and staying alive as long as possible. As real as these urges to step over may be, they are just as much imaginary. It entrusts the responsibility of staying alive solely upon your own shoulders. It gives me control. It makes me feel thrilled to be alive. In this modern living where abrupt mortality is low, self-generated dangers are much needed to maintain the senses and induce the tingling sensation of being alive. i feed upon my very own existence. i feel alive because i am alive. And i have the lure of death to constantly remind me of my state of being.

So would the definition of life be diminished if the threat of death is obliterated? What does being alive mean when you are no longer afraid of dying? Not much of a thrill i bet.