How You Know You’re Dead

dead, adj. 1. no longer alive; lifeless. 2. not having the capacity to live; inanimate. 3. lacking feeling or sensitivity, unresponsive. 4. no longer in existence, use, force, or operation. 5. devoid of animation, interest, or excitement. 6. not productive, idle. 7. weary and worn-out; exhausted. 8. without brightness or luster. 9. without resonance. 10. extinguished. 11. lacking elasticity or resilience. See also: deceased, defunct, departed, expired, extinct, lifeless.

• There are places in your body you don’t go anymore, or maybe never did.
• The Wish List is the same as when you were a teenager.
• You cycle between three or four emotions.
• You refer to current loved ones with the same endearment as all the others, or maybe even the same name.
• Every idea you have about movement is immediately countered by a thought for why you shouldn’t, couldn’t, or ought not to attempt it.
• The last time you shared a new idea, it was your mom who replied. And she said, “No.”

• Without getting out of bed, or even opening your eyes, you know exactly how the day is going to go … and you’re right.
• If ever you happen to notice today’s date, you’re completely shocked.
• The same words keep coming out of your mouth.
• You know about twelve colors … like, really know them. Well, maybe only four.
• You don’t own or use a dictionary.
• People say, “You haven’t changed.”
• You no longer look in your own eyes or at your own butt in the bathroom mirror.
• Your life has more caution and explanation than curiosity and exploration.
• You’re getting hurt, but you’re not moving away from the situation where that’s happening.
• You haven’t looked at the sky without thinking for a really, really long time.
• Gravity trumps taking a stand.
• You always tell your hairdresser just how you want your hair done rather than asking the professionals to just do their thing and make you look great.
• There’s no time for a phone call to someone you just thought of fondly.
• You know exactly how old you are.
• You don’t express your opinion until you’ve read the latest press on the subject.
• Every father reminds you of your father.
• It’s been a long time since you’ve made a mistake.
• You don’t know what color your underwear is today.
• You feel embarrassed when someone tells you about something great in your neighborhood that you’d not yet discovered even though you’ve lived there for quite awhile.
• You’re not getting what people are communicating.
• You don’t taste your food.
• People don’t listen when you speak.
• You don’t hand your fate over to knowledgeable and caring folks like dance instructors, waiters, salesclerks when shopping for jeans, or your spouse.
• You go on smell, and keep returning to the same places over and over again.
• Your life is pretty well setup, but noone is living it.
• In your fridge, there are only condiments.
• You can no longer belly laugh on the spur of the moment.
• You don’t make music.
• When someone asks, “Why?”, you know the answer.
• You haven’t drawn your thumb slowly over your lover’s cheek recently, and you don’t really know what colors their eyes contain these days.
• You can’t tell if you make a difference.
• You look like all your friends.
• You have no control over the speed at which you drive.
• Children and lovers irritate you.
• Whether it’s vibrator or vivacious, vim, vigor, and vibrance, or pistol or passion, purpose, power and pep, those “v” and “p” words make you nervous.
• Your ribs don’t expand when you take a breath.
• The same thing, same dynamic is happening in every area of your life.
• You can’t remember when you learned anything from someone much older or much younger than you.
• People from other countries are “foreigners”, and, even if you notice them, they don’t interest you much.
• Your clothes don’t fit.
• You have scars you’ve never shown anyone.
• You’re waiting for something.
• You’re dry and all shriveled up, or dry and hardened. In any case, there’s no juice.
• You don’t talk back.
• When someone kicks you, you do nothing.
• If you happen to roll into a ditch, you stay there.
• If you happen to be at the top of a mountain, you don’t look around.
• You’re brittle and crack easily.
• If you break open, dust and mold poofs out.
• When someone calls, you don’t answer.
• You don’t get warm or cold.
• There’s no point. Neither is there direction.
• You don’t show up.
• When you look in the mirror, there’s noone there.
• Your face doesn’t move.
• Noone looks at you.
• The people around you are known by their function, like furniture or appliances.
• You make no messes; and you clean none up.
• Time is up.

… and if any of this rings true … I say that you might not be all completely dead.

I say that you actually do have the Possibility of Being Alive. You clearly couldn’t have gotten this far without it.

later came: part 2, 3, 4 and 5

Future Potential Inquiries: What is this rut and who put it here?, Useful Collusions