SLEEP: THE POOR MAN’S DEATH. DEATH: THE RICH MAN’S AWAKENING.

Sleep is when you’re alive for the world but dead to yourself. Death is when you’re dead for the world but finally awake to yourself.

They say sleep is rest. I say it’s rehearsal. A gentle demo version of the final logout.

Every night, you leave this noisy WhatsApp group called Life, slip into DND mode, and vanish. Your body remains on the bed like a logged in laptop whose user has walked away. And the world keeps working…moms cook, lovers cheat, dogs bark, alarms ring.

You’re still there, technically. But are you? In that sleep state, the “you” that worries, lusts, overthinks, hustles, prays, tweets, and breaks down is gone. Vanished like a bad software update. The drama pauses.

Sleep is when the ego takes a break to snore.

Sleep is when even your desires shut up.

Sleep is death’s younger, more affordable cousin.

And we love it. We beg for it. “Let me just sleep for 5 more minutes,” we cry.

But ask the same person about death and they panic. Why?

Because in sleep, we come back. In death, we don’t.

Or… do we?

THE COSMIC JOKE: YOU THINK DEATH IS ENDING. IT’S LOGGING INTO THE MAIN ACCOUNT.

This “I” that you think you are..this username: struggler_boy_1996 only works inside this specific game called Earth.

Once death arrives your role gets logged out, but you, the real one wakes up backstage. Like an actor removing their costume and saying, “Damn, that was intense.”

When you die, you don’t disappear. You appear. For the first time. Without makeup, without gender, without caste, without crushes and credit card debt.

You are no longer your name.

You are no longer anyone’s child.

You’re just aware.

A silent, witness-like presence, watching the whole tragicomedy of life like it was a Netflix show with too many seasons.

SO WHY FEAR DEATH IF WE LOVE SLEEP?

Maybe because deep down, we know death is not the end.

It’s the final confrontation with the truth we’ve been running from:

That we were never really alive to begin with.

Just… animated. Like puppets with Wi-Fi.

Death doesn’t take you.

It gives you back.

To yourself.

AND YET YOU RUN FROM DEATH, AND RUN TOWARDS SLEEP. EVERY NIGHT.

Funny, isn’t it?

You die for a few hours daily and call it “recharging.”

But permanent death scares you, because it’s out of your control.

No snooze button. No dream filters. No coming back with new skincare.

But here’s the twist: in that final sleep, you don’t dream anymore because you’ve become the dreamer. The projector. The screen. The silence in the theatre when the movie ends and nobody claps.

You become peace itself.

SO RELAX.

Whether it’s sleep or death, you’re returning home.

One is a nap. One is a total uninstall.

But both lead to silence.

Both lead to surrender.

Both take you away from the noisy illusion of being “someone.”

And who knows?

Maybe God is just the version of you that never woke up.