Complaints from Purgatory

The secret of Purgatory is that it’s really Hell.

No, we’re not getting pitchforked but the sleeplessness is killing us and we’re not even allowed to die. That Outer Darkness might not be so bad if there was some shuteye.

That’s why we tend to haunt the night and show up in dreams–not because we prefer the night, we’re just jealous you can sleep, that’s all.

In the daytime everyone can daydream, even us. No it’s not sleep, but it’s something. It’s hard to daydream at night–being awake at night makes you too damn focused… Forever

Jealousy is a big part of Purgatory. Naturally–we can see the whole world and can’t have any of it. Sometimes when we throw a severe tantrum we’re able to jostle a coffee cup, big deal.

Being able to watch anyone in the world while they undress for bed only adds to the jealousy.

And no, we’re not here to help–you think we give a fuck about Scrooge? We’re just mad that a super-scumbag like him could sleep soundly while ordinary scumbags like us have to endure eternal insomnia. The fact that he made it into a character-reforming experience is his business, we literally don’t give a damn.

What, you’re getting bored of all this Purgatory talk?

We’ve been exhausted by it for millennia and it’s not getting any better. Don’t even talk to me about getting tired.

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Alternate Visions of Hell

Hell is an eternal cringe.

Hell is a cruel joke whose vicious punchline you don’t get at first because you are the punchline. No wait, that’s life.

Hell is embarrassing. More so than life.

Hell is both lonely and devoid of all privacy. Experience is entirely alienated and yet the suffering is all too personal. High school was nothing.

In Hell, all the negative emotions are infinitely intense and constant except for those equally painful moments when all emotions seem false and self-crushingly hollow.

The infinite remorse despair desperation loss blah-blah-blah is alleviated only by the brief festivities surrounding Satan Appreciation Week.

The climax of the festivities is the grand reinstatement of all that crushing pain and misery. Satan knows how to throw a party and he also knows how to end one.

And the black hole tour sucks. Sucks!

Satan’s under-bosses produce charts and reports to him showing their output and productivity–i.e., suffering levels. They are rewarded by being allowed to suffer a little less than everyone else. To earn this pathetic pittance their brutality knows no bounds.

And when you look on the bright side it just burns. Never look on the bright side. Never.

Half the people that show up for work on a given day in Hell might have forgotten to put their pants on. The other half laugh and point. But then a hideous beast suddenly materializes and slices them to pieces before they can barely stop laughing.

So are the pant-less people then in the clear? No, because they get attacked by the Soul Rapists.

Satanic moral of the story: better to get sliced to pieces by a hideous beast than soul-raped. So now you know.

And that’s just a Tuesday. By Thursday, the place is a total madhouse.