What is this place?

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It started at dawn. That was when the angel or demon figure came down or up and started screaming or singing. That was when I knew that I wasn’t a believer. That was also when I died. 

By now I should be giving you my whole life story. When I was born, what my childhood was like, what led up to me seeing that angel or demon or whatever but that is going to take too long. So I’m going to hold up on the exposition, possibly infinitely and just go straight to what happened after I died.  

It was strangely neither dark or light but just an infinite greyness. There were no clouds but strange shapes consisting of sharp edges. And everything was moving. Me and it. It being I don’t even know. There was both nothing to do and everything to do. Everything that you could think of happened but it always came with some terrible consequence. Unlimited candy, ultimate diarrhea. Any book to read, including the ones not thought of, a depression that lasts for what seems like a lifetime when you’re finished with the book. A feeling that you’re always loved an intense self-hate.  

It was wonderful and terrible.  

A kid’s best dream, an adult’s worst nightmare.  

A heaven and a hell.  

By now, I should tell you how much I regret dying and wishing about being back on earth. But I can’t. It’s hard to feel your own emotions in this place. The ones that are not fabricated and controlled by it. It’s also becoming harder to be me. Whoever me is.  

Was there ever a me? Or was I always controlled by it? Was I always it? 

Who knows.  

Who cares.  

Certainly I don’t in this stupid, grey space. 

And now the weather:

Heathens by twenty one pilots 

~ Stacy N.