Right now, you’re probably reading this story hoping to hear about my stupid childhood and my life throughout my teen years, but honestly, that stuff is boring. I’d rather tell you about some schizo stuff that happened to me about halfway through my life.
I was traveling through a dark, tangled valley, all alone. I am not really sure how I got there, but somehow I strayed off the true path. Anyway, I was walking through this fearful valley, and I saw a great hill, with sunshine pouring down from it, that appeared to offer at least some protection from this putrid place. I started to climb this hill when out of nowhere, a Goddamn leopard appeared, blocking my path, and just when I think it’s done, a lion and a Goddamn she-wolf came at me with such malice that I had to turn back.
So I returned to the despair of that forest, and as I was walking some phony, Roman poet, appeared in front of me. Virgil was his name, I guess. Anyway, he told me that the she-wolf killed anyone who tries to approach her, forcing them to go on a different path to get to the top of the hill, or something like that. Virgil offered to be my guide, so seeing no other way out; I followed him.
We approached the gates of Hell, and I started second guessing my decision to follow Virgil, considering he was white as a fucking ghost, but then he gave me some bullshit story about how he was pale because he felt pity, not fear. So we entered the first circle of Hell, known as Limbo. I guess Limbo is where Pagans and unbaptised children go cause they were never able to be part of that whole, crappy, religious stuff. Although Virgil wanted to stay and talk to his phony friends, I was bored, so we went on to the next circle.
The second circle of Hell seemed considerably smaller than the first, but the punishments were much worse. We passed by a monster named Minos, who assigns sinners their torment, and he warned me not to approach the dead, but Virgil told him we were on a divine journey, and he let...