What is the point of living good when I’ll never make it back to Heaven?

I heard talk from the angels above. They made it clear that I am certainly still not permitted bsck upon the holy grounds – that I’ll still never receive my wings bsck. Even after all these journies. Even after all this time.

But, I understand.

I knew all along that things would not just change.

I had hoped, though…

I had hoped that maybe Time and my efforts of change could have amounted to at least something. But no. The weight of my sins still do not allow any room for forgiveness. The angels above have made that fact clear.  Even the angels that tell me of their hopes of my return, they tell me that my banishment has only solidified its mark.

And so, now what?

I’m already prepared to end my journey here. But where will Death take me. I do not fear Hell. At least Hell will give me a certainty I can trust, a permission to embrace havoc. That sounds wonderous.

But if Death were to only just bring me back down here again, back into the unclaimed realm, that would be true agony.

A false promise.

An offer of a chance to maybe one day return to up above, only to never truly have that chance.

Should I just kill myself anyway?

There’s is a chance that I may make it to Hell, at the least. That would be lovely. But even then, I do not think Hell would welcome the likes of myself. My essence would only be an inconvenience. And besides, I truly despise the smell down there.

I do not trust Death. She has already misled me before. Several times, really. I am still stuck here, after all.

So, what do I do now?

The dance and music of the dwellers of this physical realm does not amuse me in the slightest. And my light doesn’t seem to influence their sound, either.

What am I to do?

The weight of my punishment grows evermore distasteful. What do I do?