Showing posts with label Hell. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hell. Show all posts

Wednesday, 10 November 2010

Wrong Rooms to Conclude This Weekend @wrongrooms

The Twitter Microfiction 'Wrong Rooms' is set to reach it's ultimate finale this weekend, with new updates already being published on twitter. The secret-author hinted on his personal feed that the ending would come 'sometime' this weekend.

This signals that story will finally be wrapped up after several months of silence - the unknown author published a tweet from his personal account saying 'time to lay this ghost to rest.' Could this indicate the story is based on real events?

Shortly afterwards, the latest updates to Wrong Rooms were all published live on twitter within seconds of each other, indicating the ending has already been written. The question remains... why wait five months before picking up the story again? More intriguingly, there are strong rumours that a major publisher is attempting to secure a contract with the author.

Do you have any insight? Please leave your comment below. In the meantime, catch up with the story at www.twitter.com/wrongrooms

Posted via email from uselessdesires

Tuesday, 26 October 2010

The Afterlife? A Perspective.

In the afterlife you relive all your experiences, but this time with the events reshuffled into a new order: all the moments that share a quality are grouped together...

You spend two months driving the street in front of your house, seven months having sex. You sleep for thirty years without opening your eyes. For five months straight you flip through magazines while sitting on a toilet.

You take all your pain at once, all twenty-seven intense hours of it. Bones break, cars crash, skin is cut, babies are born. Once you make it through, it's agony-free for the rest of your afterlife.

But that doesn't mean it's always pleasant.

You spend six days clipping your nails. Fifteen months looking for lost items. Eighteen months waiting in line. Two years of boredom: staring out a bus window, sitting in an airport terminal. One year reading books. Your eyes hurt, and you itch, because you can't take a shower until it's your time to take your marathon two-hundred-day shower. Two weeks wondering what happens when you die. One minute realizing your body is falling. Seventy-seven hours of confusion. One hour realizing you've forgotten someone's name. Three weeks realizing you are wrong. Two days lying. Six weeks waiting for a green light. Seven hours vomiting. Fourteen minutes experiencing pure joy. Three months doing laundry. Fifteen hours writing your signature. Two days tying shoelaces. Sixty-seven days of heartbreak. Five weeks driving lost. Three days calculating restaurant tips. Fifty-one days deciding what to wear. Nine days pretending you know what is being talked about. Two weeks counting money. Eighteen days staring into the refrigerator. Thirty-four days longing. Six months watching commercials. Four weeks sitting in thought, wondering if there is something better you could be doing with your time. Three years swallowing food. Five days working buttons and zippers. Four minutes wondering what your life would be like if you reshuffled the order of events...

In this part of the afterlife, you imagine something analogous to your Earthly life, and the thought is blissful: a life where episodes are split into tiny swallowable pieces, where moments do not endure, where one experiences the joy of jumping from one event to the next like a child hopping from spot to spot on the burning sand..

Copyright © 2010 Ryan Price

Related link:
Hell, by Cecilia Weightman:
http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/hell-a-short-story-by-cecilia-weightman

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Saturday, 23 October 2010

Hell - A Short Story by Cecilia Weightman

The woman in the post office queue the other day was mouthing off angrily about doing something, “The day after hell freezes over.” I smiled from the inside out.

It is a commonly held notion that Hell is hot. I suppose that rumour got around because the Old Testament was written in hot countries. Those old style leaders were good at what they did. The populace could vividly imagine burning heat but had little or no concept of burning cold and so, between suppressed imagination and corny leadership, the fallacy of a hot Hell was born.

Think of the coldest that you have ever been and then some. Have you ever got stuck to the inside of the freezer or experienced chilblains? You know a little of the true heat of Hell. Hell is so cold that your urine freezes in your bladder. Oddly enough, your blood keeps moving and your heart keeps on beating, for Hell is not about a living death it is a living punishment.

On first arriving in Hell you are still able to walk about quite freely whilst at the same time somehow recognizing that a place has been allocated for you and that on reaching that place you will somehow adhere to the permafrost. In that spot you will spend eternity – or what is left of it at any rate.

It seems that you are only just in your allotted place when, comfortable or not, you find yourself frozen to the knees. Time passes by with an amazing slowness even though events seem to occur with startling rapidity. I suppose one way of describing it is by drawing on the analogy of watching a movie recorded on long play played back at standard play: fast, jittery and nauseating.

You would think that being slowly or rapidly – depending on your point of view – encased in ice would add to or enhance all those negative qualities that got you to Hell in the first place. Surprisingly it has the opposite effect. You become caring, thoughtful and considerate before the ice is even halfway up your thighs. By the time that it has reached your chest you are almost good enough to be considered human. In fact, by the time the ice is chest high, you are considered good enough to begin your punishment. Reminiscent of the fairy story hot Hell, the punishment lasts through all eternity, and there is no remission for good behaviour.

So there you are: stuck in Hell, encased in ice, then the floorshow begins. Your negative life begins to play and replay itself “live” for you. It begins with the childish indiscretions of the schoolyard – perhaps a little bullying that you indulged in. Remorse immediately fills your heart as your victim’s life unfolds before you. You see all the things that went wrong for them as a direct consequence of what you did. You are watching a chain of events that you could have stopped. You shake what little of your head that you can in disbelief as you see their life played out as if you hadn’t been such a bully. The pain is indescribable, the cold is eating in to you and the tears that just ran down your cheeks are freezing before building up to drop off in big chunks, taking huge pieces of skin with them.

So it goes on. Each inconsiderate moment, each small act of theft or treachery. The large things about which you had hoped you had managed to cover your tracks and obviously hadn’t. Your lying, deceit, envy and greed playing over and over again until the very idea of them cuts your soul into julienne strips and serves them up for dinner – yours, of course.

Each time this happens your soul is cleansed a little more, your sense of right and wrong is ingrained a little more in you a little more deeply and the pain gets more and more intense. Each child that was never born, each genius unfulfilled. How many cures for say, cancer, have slipped through our hands because of our sins of commission and omission caused their discoverers not to be born?

If I am making your skin crawl, you with your spot-on average misdeeds, just think of how Hell pays back the really bad guys. I dare say that Hitler, with six million souls on his conscience, will never see too many replays of his sins even through all eternity. His heart, and he has got one, must feel as though it wants to leave his body. Hell has enough pain for the relatively childish misdeeds but when you do something deliberately after you had the opportunity not to… Well, Hell does a little unfreezing and refreezing from time to time.

Oh yes, the Devil. That is another thing that people have got so wildly wrong. Hell is not presided over by one big boss with lots of little helpers, that is far too reminiscent of Santa Claus. The Devil is each and every one of us. He is the part of us that denies common sense and indulges selfishness.

Hell is, quite simply, the perpetual remembrance of every single thing we have ever done be it right or wrong. It is the relentless asking of questions that can only begin with “What if?”

Hell is home made, an icy freezer full of ready frozen sins and snack-sized mistakes.

And remember, you cannot escape Hell because there is no such place as Heaven.

Copyright © Cecilia Weightman 2000-2010. Reproduced with permission. Original source:
http://weirdsid.tumblr.com/post/1381539517/hell-a-short-story

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