So i did something bad the other night and i just can’t seem to care. Hearing my friends give me guilt about it just makes it better. Is this true freedom? I’ve tried my entire life to escape the idea of “good and bad” but it’s hard to get rid of things you’re bred with. Good…..evil…..it’s just all perspective……i mean i almost hope i die and it goes down just like the priests have told me.
I raise up to the clouds and see St Peter. He opens up the book of toad, pukes when he reads halfway through it and just starts shaking his head. He flips towards the end of the book, pukes again and then suddenly i’m surrounded by flames. Burning, searing, regret. Going to be great. A eternity of suffering for the sins i have comitted on this beautiful earth.
We go through life just doing shit that you know deep down inside probably isn’t a good idea. You wake up the next morning hungover and bleeding but it really doesn’t matter. Or does it? Fucking whiskey. Wow this is getting really deep.
Anyway. I guess it’s almost stupid to even write about. I won’t know if i’ve been really “good” or really “bad” until i’m cast down into the flames. Nothing probably really happens anyway. The afterlife is just some great little idea we’ve made up to try to make ourselves feel better about our simple little existance. Damn that’s depressing.