Wednesday

The Way Of Suffering I

In The Hells, there are so many, many ways of suffering. The way most travelled is the one on which we seek pleasure. This road - of course - inevitably - leads to suffering.

But sometimes we try to purge our suffering by turning our backs on pleasure. By abandoning pleasure fully. By embracing openly and passionately all the Agonies in store for us.

And we find then, when we have the courage to finally, boldy embrace our woes and pains and terrors, yes, we are amazed to find that this new way leads to...

...still more suffering. And the demons laugh and laugh and laugh.



On the Way of Suffering...

Male and female Sufferers are given a sweet drink, made from a blend of fruits too delicious to be found anywhere but The Hells. The juice is not over-sweet, not too tart. Cool. Refreshing. And so very quenching.

The juice makes them happy and softly drowsy, and they lie down on cushions, and silks cover their dry naked bodies. They sleep deeply and dream of all the things they will do in life, and they dream of their friends both living and dead, and they dream of telling their parents how much they really love them...

But then, they wake up, a bit let down to find they're back in their bodies. When they look up and around, they see and hear and smell and feel...

...that they are in the midst of having their limbs amputated, their bodies disassembled.

Exhausted surgeons crouch over them, cutting and chopping diligently. Red-eyed unshaven men pry shoulders from scapulas with rods, iron blades, and elbow grease. Some wear thick specs and scrubs, some only an apron thick as a breast-plate and a leather tie to hold back the hair.

Knee caps are popped off with screwdrivers.

Stomachs are pulled open like pillowcases and the contents hurriedly stuffed into bags, and the bags taken away by eager interns.

I saw one surgeon slip a disk trying to heave all the skin off a woman's back in one go.

The Sufferers scream and fight and flail. But saws and scalpels, shears and hatchets cut short all defenses - and fast.

"Oh God," they say. "Oh God," they say, as they watch themselves hauled, piece by piece, away.

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1 Comments:

Blogger howlcram said...

Dante! Virgil! Your hells now seem like Heaven!

Wednesday, February 4, 2009 11:10:00 PM GMT  

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