Suicidal in Heaven – A Journey of Choices

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First is a free fall, I feel the air passing through my body. I feel I’m gaining speed, and in spite of the pain from the severed hand, the semi-dismembered arm and the vomit from the ingestion of the pus from the demon’s pustules, I feel fine. I’m flying, I’m free. The adrenaline runs through my body, it’s discharge on my organism makes everything seem smaller. I just stop thinking about falling down and experience that feeling as an ode to freedom.

When I feel I’m not speeding up anymore, I risk opening my eyes, I want to see what’s happening. I’m just looking at what’s passed, I’m still standing as if there was a floor beneath me. It’s not enough, I turn around, leaving my head where before were my feet. I see the fall before it happens, the place is dark, but not completely devoid of light. The black walls of soot and red with heat illuminate dimly the hole, and it’s thanks to that I see what’s happening.

The hole ends in an abrupt manner. It’s not 90º anymore, it gains inclination. I smash my head against the floor and feel it exploding. My skull is fragmented, my brains fall out of my cranium, I should die and pass out. But I’m in hell, dying would be redundant and passing out would spare me the suffering. So, nothing that should happen, happens, except the pain.

I begin to roll down vary fast, as my body hits the ground, my bones break, some hits are so violent I feel body parts being ripped out. I keep on rolling, the fall only stops when I’m sure there’s nothing solid left in my body. My brain doesn’t exist anymore, or even my bones, I’m just a shapeless bulk on the floor. I don’t exist, at least not in a possible way if you just conceive existence in a limited form, like humans do. When I was a kid, I used to see a cartoon about a chicken with no bones in its body, I’m in a much worse state. The chicken, at least, had feathers, I’m just soft jelly, I’m squash.

I stay like this for a long time, and when things begin to change, I wish they didn’t. There’s only one thing worse than being turned into jelly, and it’s the reconstruction of your body. I can’t describe the piercing pain of bones being reborn and settling in your recently reformed body. If when babies are being formed in their mother’s womb they feel this pain, all I can say is that they kick a little, if they go through this pain, some of them should already have been able to tear the placenta and their mother’s skin through punches and kicks. But I doubt it is, the interior of a mother isn’t hell, and I doubt the rules of suffering and punishment here can be compared to the rules of suffering and punishment of the interior of a mother. Maybe not even with the rules of suffering and punishment of the real world…

I get up and my first thought is realizing I’m whole again: It could at least be windy.

Truth being told, one of the reasons I enjoyed falling/flying and why I didn’t think it felt so bad being turned into jelly (compared to being restored to a human being), it’s because in those two moments there was a strong wind softening the infernal heat. On all those other moments, all there were was heat, and there’s nothing I hate more than heat.

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