What would Hell be for me?
Being obliged to watch a very long movie (no refreshments, no intermissions, no potty breaks) of my life, my every move, my every moment, my every betîse, my every humiliation, working itself inexorably out. Not suffering the pains perhaps, but all the embarrassments and humiliations.
Around me - silence, darkness? Emptiness? or - would this be worse - more Hellish - if the darkness were filled with the rustles, the yawns, the coughs, the candy wrappers and slurps (even sounds of making out) of a vast anonymous audience? or would it be worse to know that audience, to have them be everyone I've ever known and cared for? I think that would be Dante-esque (without the terza rima.
Peter on Grief and Communities
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Well, that was unexpected.
For the last year, ever since my mom's health took a sharp downturn, I've
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