you pull my chest open and remove the mass that's sitting in me and you weigh it. and you see that only 0.71% of me is alive.
we're not really alive.
we're merely an involuntary muscle that doesn't even sit correctly in the center of our chest, and most of what's alive are veins and arteries.
and the irony? what's alive will die...
and we always die, even when we've never really been alive.

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