suicide letter from hell...

Dear all,

Yesterday I committed suicide. The fear of the unknown pushed me into mixing alcohol with some random unlicensed drugs shipped illegally from South America. My boring monotonous life pushed me into taking this step, life was at its peak, which made me think of my days to come!

Frustrated from eating off newspapers and from plastic bags, life of "the others" eating on tables and using silverware was starting to appeal to me. I had to put end to my fantasies of sleeping in an air-conditioned room, and wearing shoes that fit.

Finally, somewhere between not knowing if it was day or night, hot or cold, I did it. Now my dear friends I am dead.

The after life sucks, I am in hell. I didn’t know it was a fact that anyone who commits suicide gets a one way ticket to hell. I honestly thought that some good deeds will out rule the suicide factor.

It horrific I can't even begin to explain. The kebabs are made of thorns, blazing spicy flames are always there to quench my thirst and no need to think of shoes that fit, and I walk on sharp edged fiery hot nails the whole day.

It's very hi-tech here, so not 18th century as we imagined when alive. We have to stand in a queue and get a flaming number in order to go into one of the penalty rooms. Of course there are many different ones. It’s a whole city filled with heated metal sky scrapers, each one built for a different audience. Every floor for a different purpose, then according to how "naughty u were" you will be assigned to a certain room.

The day is always slow; it starts of slow with a long list of rooms to "visit" followed by yet another list of long chores.

I am not afraid; I am overwhelmed with numbness I have no time to be afraid. I miss you all. I will email soon again. Hang in there.

Your ex miserable friend....