I think I'm dead and this is my personal hell; the very void I have always feared. I never believed in a somewhat universal hell where all the fucked up people flock and get roasted. I don't think that sinners are categorized based on their sins and the heavier the sins, the heavier the punishment. And they get to be grouped with people of the same sins as them. Dante Alighieri was high on opium when he wrote that. If that is so, then Satan believes in bureaucracy---the very thing that blew his nuts and made him rebel against God. There isn't one fiery place where all the sinners get punished. That's melodramatic. Besides, an eternal damnation by means of burning is too blunt, too broad, too simple for evil. One thing we know for sure is that evil is never simple and stupid. Look at all the serial murders and genocides committed by the vilest of men in the short history of the world. And when they die, they just get roasted?
Hell is personal. This is mine.
I have always feared my life being uneventful. I wake up at 3 PM and sleep at 3 AM. This bland mundane experience must be the work of the devil. I can't get out of this shithole and believe me when I say that I have tried. There is one glimmer of hope and she is named Charlene. I fear, however, that I cling to her too much that I might drag her down into this mess and that is the last thing that I want. So I just look at her from below while she shines and sprinkles a little bit of her brightness in this dark, dark world that I live in. Stay there, my love, embrace the sun for me.
This seems to be more of a shitty, crazy loop than a routine. Routine is good in a sense that it makes you productive. This loop that I'm stuck in rots my spirit as the cycle goes on and on and on. The longer you are in it, the lesser is your interest to get out. It plays funny games with your mind. I never got out when I had my chance.So I comfort myself with the thought that I am dead and this is my personal hell; my punishment for living a shitty life. It makes me believe that I have no better life to look forward to; no better days to come; no sunny days to cover up the rainy ones. If I'm dead then it doesn't really matter anymore.
So, hello, my afterlife.I'm getting used to you.
BINABASA MO ANG
ISKRIBOL (Mga Suka ng Isang Bored na Otistik)
Acak[Written in Filipino and konting English] Kompilasyon ng mga mahahabang maiikling kwento, mga anik-anik, mga suka ng isa talagang bored na otistik, mga pighati habang naglalaslas, at iba pang mga walang kwentang kwento. Palakpakan!
