All hope abandon ye who enter here

For my foremost sin of gluttony, I was placed in the now defunct constellation of Cerebus. Once a massive star in culinary reviewing I was now an ever growing star of the galactical persuasion. Born in Florence, my celebrated palatte was revered and scorned among the Irish culinary elite. The silver spooned would not grease the spoons of an establishment, if an ill word of it's food I did speak. I made Sullivan's Chophouse in Lexslip, with a fortunate review of their duck fois gras. I was the one with disappointment and dismay that put Randolf Cunningham out to pasture with a disappointing review of his £35 truffle burger. I was the foremost authority on wining and dining in this country until it became the death of me. For due to years of overeating my liver became like that of a duck force fed to produce fois gras. In December of 2008 I died of impaired liver function. My coffin was a double casket, for my abdomen had swollen two fold in the final month before my demise.

They say there are as many stars in the sky as souls in heaven. The more sombre truth is, that there are as many stars in the sky, as there are damned in Hells third circle. We are all familar with the finding of new stars every day, papers are as full of such discoveries as the food reviews myself and my associates used to scribe. Nasa has discovered more stars in the past ten years than it did in its first three decades combined. You would conclude this is to do with improved technology, such as computerised digital telescopes and the like. Infact even though this has helped, this thirty five fold increase in forty years is due to a far more divine factor, which at the moment is completely oblivious to scientists.Those who cling to their notion of the big bang theory would be very suprised at the malevolent truth at the origin of those sparkly beautiful diamonds in the sky.

Once the star Tulius, I was positioned above the earth, increasingly blazing, at distance of 800 lightyears, to far away yet, to be seen by the people of my home planet. My life as a beacon of light,a punishment for my greed and gluttony, I will spend eternity cast in a far region of the universe, alone.

I bore short of patience within hours of my domocile as a star of the sky. Sitting there burning alight was far from as exciting as science paints it. Thermo nuclear reaction is as forefront to my conscience, as the processes of your human metabolism are to you.

As what you would call time wore on, I believed myself to be gaining size. This notion had come to my attention as I felt somewhat like I had in my final month on earth. My bloating of size and increasing heat confirmed by the ever more present scorch marks on the first planet from my static position. I associated my increasing size with increasing power.I concluded with an air of hope,that if I gained enough size, I may come in contact with the next star in my constellation, how far from the truth I soon realised this to be.

With more largess came the return of the hope, which I had almost abandoned in my tenure as dead. I had destroyed and enloped my solar system, but was gaining proximity to company amongst a fellow unrepentant victim of sensualism. Joy bestowed my heart as I became as so luminous that telescopes on earth saw me and could term me as what I understand is known as a 'supernova'.

Alas as I should have known all good things come to an end. A heavy weight I felt inside me, something like gallstones for a man. Having been a patron of rich delicacies I knew how such a problem felt. As time passed my luminousity seemed to become more static. A shroud of suspicion and fear arose in me and was only quelled by my belief that the gallstone had discontinued it's growth, as had I . Alas a period of indefinite time passed and desolation became more familar than hope.

Faster than the blink of an eyelash or a huming birds wing, I am indefinitely dense and unpercievibly small. I am a blackhole. 'All hope abandon ye who enter here.'