Monday, October 19, 2009


It's exactly the same, every single day here. The floating bodies; arguing points they never convinced people of in life, they rarely add any real entertainment to the scene. Some folks arrive here and decide to just walk, as if to suspect they'll get somewhere. Some of them I'll never see again, others just come walking right by me over and over again, day after day, as if it were the first time we've met every time. Hell might've been torturesome, but I feel like torture would've been a lighter punishment than monotony. if you're a teen, you wake up to your parents fighting every day. If you're older, well, you've got your own problems.

Some days I wake up and I believe that my face may be fading. I've seen it happen here before. Someone stays long enough, and their face just up and dissapears, leaving nothing but blank space, as if it evaporates from its proper place. A lot of times we're sent from here back to the newer, much shorter lived purgatory, with new faces, new bodies, and whatnot. We spend a spell there, but it's always the same. Victims of their own purgatory always die young on earth, and return to our period of stasis.

Sometimes I wonder if this is hell.

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