Small Deaths

There are many kinds of deaths, I've noticed.

Real death, when one's body stops functioning and turns into a state of decay, could only be called true death when every single living people that knew the person no longer gives any thought. The dead will continue on living in someone's mind. Whether it is when they are sipping mojito in the world's paradise or when they are standing in the middle of a mosh pit. The dead's small mementos keep on living.

But there are other kinds of death, like small deaths.

Small deaths occur when one disappears from the people's mind, be it with deliberate intention or not. More often than not, the person who does it changes their course of life in order to do so. More certainly, the state they change into never in the form of something that their crowd disapproves or, at least, does not endorse it as much. There is a paradox in small deaths. Small deaths could also be seen as a much needed escapism that one could use in order to feel alive again––being dead to the world so that one could feel alive. Becoming off the radar is another way of being dead. It occurs naturally, sometimes, to the people who does not engage with each other anymore under the norms of exchanging informations. Or it could be intended, like shedding off one's dead skin for being pure again. Healthy again.

And both kind are equally terrifying and sad.