between being and not being, there is no middle ground possible

True misery lies between heaven and hell—purgatory. If I'm not good enough to enter the gates of heaven, could I at least be wicked enough to be punished for it? To be rejected by God is a familiar feeling, but to not even be sick enough for Satan is another. If my soul was destined for purgatory, I think I would never die, as the ground beneath me already feels like a lifetime of lukewarm existence. I wish to be either the lamb or the wolf, be pure, or be a sinner because I would rather hit rock bottom than suffer being in the middle.