"These are my last words
I need to rest
In fear and anger
Lay down, my head"
-Blind Guardian, My Last Sunrise.

First, let me start by saying that this is being written in
English because this is how it was conceived. I guess I just
'think in English', as it were. Some of you might not
understand what I'm saying here because of it, but the fact
that no-one ever fully understands me is well known to both
of us.

Secondly, let me explain what I mean by "World of the
Living" - This is no fantasy article, discussing zombies and
other forms of the undead. Also, this is no suicide note - I
have no intentions of killing myself just yet - oh, quite
the contrary - life's too good of a show for me to give up
my front-row seat. And didn't Shakespeare say that the whole
world is a stage, and that we are its actors? Well, it would
be quite disappointing if an actor just dropped-dead when he
wasn't even half-way through his part... But I digress. By
"World of the Living", I mean on an internal, emotional
level. The Living, as I've learned through my observations,
are happy, content, friendly, and nice people. Friendly and
nice, I say, to other Living. Please forgive my crudeness,
but I believe an example is needed. Do you know the
TV-series "Saved by the Bell"? It portrays what is (in my
opinion, at least) a very lopsided picture of society in a
high-school in America. The characters are all
representatives of groups which supposedly exist in an
average high-school. You have "The Cool Guy", "The Geek",
"The Jock", and of course "The Popular Girls" and the "Not
So Popular Girls".
Everyone's happy. Everybody is friends. In this
representation of reality, people like me - people of the
Dead - do not really exist, or are inconsequential at best.

The world of the Dead, and people like me - let me explain.
By "Dead" I mean emotionally. And I don't mean apathetic
people, quite the opposite - these people have a wide
"spectrum", if you would, of emotions. It's just that they
are currently in one part of that spectrum - the sad, mad,
lonely & angry part of it. These are the real people. I just
haven't met anyone else but me yet.
Now let me explain what I mean when I say that "I am of the
Dead". In retrospect, I was never of the Living. It's just
that I wasn't of the Dead, either. Not until November 19th,
2003, the third day of the school trip in 12th grade, for
those who know what I'm talking about. Disappointingly, I
was in no emotional state (obviously) to record the exact
time. Sometime around noon, if you insist. My death was
confirmed later that day. Now, I can't go into details
because there are people other than me involved, but to make
a long, excruciating story short - I was in love with a girl
(of the Living, and very much so), and told her so. As you
can probably guess, I was rejected. But these words are more
than the words of a man rejected by a woman. These are he
words of a man rejected - repelled even - by society itself.
Let me explain. I shall bring forth the very words by which
I was "undone" as it were, translated:
"Wow! I don't know what to say. I hate it when situations
like this happen. I don't have much to say to you. I hope
you get over it. Sorry."
Sucks, doesn't it? Did you feel bad for me, just for a
fleeting fraction of a second? Thank you, if you did. Now
let me explain the two meanings these words hold:

The first is the obvious rejection. "You know what you've
been feeling these past few months? The only thing you've
been thinking of, crying about, dreaming of, and fantasizing
about? Well, not going to happen. You better get over it." I
think it goes without saying that it takes a while to get
over such a rejection, which "bursts your bubble". It was a
very important bubble to me. Indeed, it took me (to my
count) two months to get over it. But there is more to these
words, even if she didn't think of it.

The second meaning is the rejection from the world of the
Living. You see, this girl I was in love with - she was the
epitome of The Living. The Queen Bee, if you will. So this
rejection later came to mean the following: "Nice try, but
you aren't made to be a part of us. You are not of the
Living. You dared try, indeed a bold deed, but one doomed to
fail, nonetheless."

This meaning became more and more obvious to me as I
gradually got over the 'first' rejection. While I was still
depressed, I had the displeasure of watching the
interactions of my classmates (The Living) with one another,
and their lack of interaction with me (The Dead). I've come
to realize how fake The Living appear to be. Do they know
not sadness and hardship? And when they're "living their
dream", don't they ever notice me there, The Dead? Do they
not see it or do they just ignore it?

One more point I'd like to stress: I don't think one of the
Living could make this observation about the two Worlds, the
two groups of people. And I'm not talking about popularity
here - I don't consider myself especially unpopular. I mean
two groups of people as defined by emotional status, not
social. If all this is true then how can I ever truly become
a part of the world of the Living, knowing how fake it all
is, and that living, truly living, is achieved by
experiencing true emotions, sadness, anger, confusion, and
not just happiness and cheerfulness? And just as I began
this monologue (?), so shall I end it, with a quote from a
song:

"People like you
You live in a dream world
You seem to be
So introverted
How come we fail?
With all that is given?"
-In Flames, Cloud Connected.