Virgil is a dick.

Circles.

On his little tour through hell, that old timey poet Virgil guided Mr. Alighieri through nine of them.

Except it couldn't have been real hell, because as we all know, hell is other people.

Except maybe the other people, are the old parts of us, that we swore we'd left behind.

Which I guess, is kind of a circle.

And Dante, and Jean Paul, are far better with words than I'll ever be.

And to hell with words.
Insignificant
Incomplete
Incoherent
And many other in words.

To all nine circles of other me's with you.

And I am haunted by all of my never agains, which is why I never say never, which is a paradox, which is the lesson I have to keep relearning, because my hell is a circle of me ghosts taunting me with my should haves and nevers. 

And here I am again, and Virgil does a face palm, but he doesn't look like a Roman poet. He looks like The Dude from The Big Lebowski, and he's like...

...dude.

And I'm like...

Shut up.

And he's like...

...I thought you said never again.

And I'm like...

I'm taking the scenic circle.

And he's like...

You know how this ends right?

And I'm like...

How could I possibly?

And he's like...

Dude...you're on a goddamn circle.

Of hope
And beauty
And light
And darkness
And all the wrong words
And all the words I can't say
And all the words I won't say
And the pain.

Pain
Pain
Tedious pain.

Which is the toll for breathing.
And I do so enjoy breathing.
So I'll pay the toll.

And he's like...

See you on the come around.

And I'm like...

I really thought I'd leveled up.

And he's like...

I like your hubris kid.  It really ties the hell together.

And I step into the familiar darkness, with open eyes, knowing so well, before I even plant my foot, where my last step will land, but

But

But like the crazy
And the insane
And the stupid
And the ten thousand me's who so foolishly took this journey before me...

Maybe this time.

And he's like...

...dude.