My name is Podra Gautuma and when I was growing up I heard a lot of stories about hell and

in my teens and 20s as well and hell was often used as a threat to people like me, gay people

who'd end up burning in hell of eternity.

One of the things that changed for me was to go into hell and to go, there's interesting

things to learn.

There's poetry about hell, there's language about hell and hell can be a place of discovery

through the imagination, through literature, through mythology.

There's so much to learn about hell that can be embraced, that can almost be playful

too and going into hell was a great protest against those who told me I'd spend eternity

there.

Alternate ending, the escape of Jeff Thessalon, by Jay Estanaslalopez.

Seeing my father tear his clothes at the sight of me, each seam of cloth on spindling to reveal

his bare, flexing chest as he wailed a heartfelt regret, I could no longer take him seriously.

God I realized, played favourites and favoured fools.

Who did he think would walk through the door to greet him?

The irony I could hear the future exclaim and a virgin sacrifice at that.

But I'm no archetype.

I fled to the mountains promising return, but what is a promise if not an exchange of ideas

about ourselves subject to evolving circumstances?

If my nation burns so be it, many will be grateful and there's no lack of men eager to

sing of how they suffered greatly and prevailed.

This poem's title makes a specific reference to somebody's daughter and therefore with

...