Suicidal in Heaven – A Journey of Choices

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46

XLVI

It was 624 miles of absolutely nothing, with the exception of the archetypical house. The door was closed, there were trucks, cars and some trailers around it. I understood a new production had begun, I felt bad for the actor/actress who was inside. But I couldn’t help laughing, I remembered when I was there, how funny it was to find what had really happened. I waved to it, it waved back. I’d dared to say it was the literal version of looking to the abyss and the abyss looking back, but, being in hell, I believe I’ll actually find an abyss that will stare back at me, not just a metaphor. I got back to walking to where I’d already been.

It wasn’t a surprise to go back to the town I had left, walking to where I’d walked was a guess on my part. And I was never good at guessing, or in locating myself, for that matter. Seeing I’d taken a completely wrong path didn’t surprise me, I should have expected that. The town seemed much bigger, and it probably was much bigger. A 600 miles walk takes a long time, and people just continue to die. And, what’s more important, continue to sin before they die.

I take the GPS and try to figure out to what Circle this town belongs to. I find out it doesn’t belong to any Circle, it’s independent. The circles are around it, it’s some kind of focus point. Almost like the chamber that gives access to the doors. I can’t quite explain myself, but I think that because I’m trying to explain something that’s easily understood. I don’t have to explain the obvious. Do I?

Anyway, I keep walking. I see celebrities, I’m not sure I should name them. I don’t think I’d like to have my name linked to hell if I was famous, but I’d be dead, so, there would be no way of knowing if people on Earth found out I’m a sinner. I don’t have reasons not to reveal their names, but I choose not to. I’m still me, and I think privacy it’s everyone’s right. Maybe the most sacred of rights.

I’m thinking of holy things in hell, is that irony or stupidity?

I pass through the town, which means I’ve traveled more than 1242 miles. Now I’m in the middle of hellish nowhere, a chill goes through my spine. I felt safe in the city, I knew where the demons might come from and how to avoid them. But here, in the middle of nowhere, I’m completely naked (figuratively and literally). I feel the worst demons, the worst punishments are here, in the most absolute concept of hell there is.

I stop at the threshold of the city, thinking if it’s worth the trip to the Circle of Lust just to get some pieces of cloth that will cover what every human knows. Yes, it is. Any torture, any punishment, any vile act of any demons is less worse than being naked. The only thing that could make me stop trying to get some clothes is if someone offered me eternal nudity in exchange of not feeling hot anymore. Since this doesn’t look like it’s going to happen, I take the step that makes me leave the town.

Clothes, here I go.

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