What is this exactly?

Having to play in this whimsical little merry-go-round

grows weary day after purposeless day

Maintaining mannerisms, declining doubts, reading to learn,

needing to want, living to die

God is this all?!?

Surely shame should fall upon us all if this is the excitement

of our daily lives

Our mechanical routines

I wonder what is there After

I wonder what it looks like

Is it Hell?

The Hell we know of with its gothic imagery and brimstone


A communion of souls damned to a fate morbidly enslaved by

their livelihood and passions

But what if it comes to no surprise if Hell has always been your home,

your field of vision

Can't you feel it?

The need, the interest to experience what lies After

After the desires

After the drudgery

After the punch-line

And if there's nothing else but to consume

If there's nothing else but to function

Clearly this boredom

This watching the hands go 'round and 'round

Cold erode the most unyielding fortress of thought and love

But the curiosity still remains

What is it that truly lies After you?

After me?

After this?

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