I'm dead. Really dead. Not in the "there'll be a twist at the end and I'll be saved" kind of way. Just dead.

Surprisingly, I don't mind all that much. It's much calmer out here in the abyss. There's a strange peace that comes with being nothing. Or, rather, not being. There is a difference, you see.

Because I am not, I am able to not be wherever I like. And I am not in the middle of everything.

While I was alive, I loved stories. Stories were incredible things. I would look for them everywhere-- music, movies, books, newspapers, magazines, visual art works, everywhere.

Now, I get all of the stories I want. People come and go by the same paths every day. They're born, they grow up, they marry and (sometimes or) reproduce and they grow old.

They create dreams, they dream their dreams, they crush dreams, they live dreams, they achieve dreams and they move on from dreams.

This is the kind of stuff I used to live for. I would have done anything to be able to see the incredible stories I'm seeing in the quantities (and what quality, too!) that I am now.

The only thing is, since I'm dead and no longer am, I can't feel anything about them.

I guess stories are best for when you're alive.