In hell there is no other punishment than to begin over&over again the tasks left unfinished in life
bound by my own hair, gagged with my own fist. i kicked uselessly through the daydreams or hallucinations that passed. i had to move on from where i was, there was something driving me through it, my own will it seemed. i looked at the pale light that flooded the room, it seemed purple. i couldn't breath when i realised i was dead. i realised it was as useless to breath as it was to kick, to fight, or to hallucinate.
my hair swirled into me, i couldn't get away from it, ever in my face, binding my wrists so tightly that they tingled. it was easy enough to deduce, being that i was the only one in the room, that this was hell.
no trial, no purgatory? but then maybe this was purgatory, but it was too much, it was too much for that wasn't it? i couldn't even remember how or why i died. this was terrible, those pains, that constant and terrible ache that filled me, the one i was always told would drift away when i died had not. that ache, the horror of always being in pain in fact was my only thought. why had i ever wanted to live?
because i always thought, secretly, that there was maybe no this. i sighed and it echoed back to me.
lovely.
my hair swirled into me, i couldn't get away from it, ever in my face, binding my wrists so tightly that they tingled. it was easy enough to deduce, being that i was the only one in the room, that this was hell.
no trial, no purgatory? but then maybe this was purgatory, but it was too much, it was too much for that wasn't it? i couldn't even remember how or why i died. this was terrible, those pains, that constant and terrible ache that filled me, the one i was always told would drift away when i died had not. that ache, the horror of always being in pain in fact was my only thought. why had i ever wanted to live?
because i always thought, secretly, that there was maybe no this. i sighed and it echoed back to me.
lovely.