memorly dot com

still day eleven. kinda.

the last thing i said out loud before i tried to go to bed tonight was that i don’t believe in Hell. but i just woke up in a cold sweat and realized silly, i’ve been here a while. i figured i should stop being selfish and explain the landscape for people who won’t get the grand tour of this mythical place.

contrary to popular conception, it is not hot in Hell. sometimes Hell is very warm and often it’s far too cold but wardrobe adjustments are futile and you always wind up wearing the same three things anyway. shampoos and conditioners never match in Hell. the weather in Hell is never conducive to good hair days, assuming you find reason to expose yourself to the elements, which you won’t. you will always be sleepy but rarely able to sleep, and when you are able to sleep something will interrupt it. the first rule of Hell is that you are never the most important thing that is going on.

in Hell, everything tastes the same. there are many beautiful sweets and pastries in Hell, but they are all stored in the same tin so everything tastes vaguely like banana and mint and evil. enjoy your beautiful braeburn apples and baby spinach while you can, because you cannot take these things to Hell. you eat banana-nut-evil muffins while your produce rots in your apartment very far away, where you left everything exactly as you like your things to be before Hell beckoned.

you’re never alone in Hell, but at the same time you’re always alone. everyone wants to “be there” and everyone also wants to be a total asshole more or less all of the time. people of the opposite sex want to save you from yourself, and think they’re the only ones who’ve had the idea to exploit your misery. someone in your proximity is always laughing or crying hysterically but you’re never a part of it. you have vague memories of times when you had meaningful relationships but through one irreversible turn of events or another they are mostly now out of reach. things are never where or how you left them. nothing is sacred and nothing is yours.

everything is a paradox in Hell. silence is deafening. food makes you hungry. emptiness has a physical presence, like there’s no room for anything meaningful in your life because it’s crowded out by so much nothing. it’s, well, hell.

so that’s where i am right now. today was not a good day.