Maybe there is no actual place called hell. Maybe hell is just having to listen to our grandparents breathe through their noses when they're eating sandwiches.
“If I write when I'm low, it will be a dark song, but I don't care. I want to be honest with myself at all times.”
“If it were possible to talk to the unborn, one could never explain to them how it feels to be alive, for life is washed in the speechless real.”