Anyone who tells you hell doesn’t exist just hasn’t died yet.
Tightly interwoven souls, total spiritual one-ness. A New Age shmuck’s wet dream. It’s not all they made it up to be though. There’s nothing enchanting about the afterlife. You discover an endless soup of spirits smothers the earth. From the first sapient to the guy that kicked the bucket right before you did. They’re all there. Stacked, suffocating.
It wouldn’t be so bad if you could just zone out and enjoy eternal slumber. But once stripped from their fleshy armor, souls are highly permeable. You may not be in the mood to form endless tired thoughts, but the millions of others you overlap with sure are. And those thoughts, they flow. They seek out the least saturated soul, however full it may be, and squeeze in. Somehow, perhaps through sheer banality, it hurts.
“unconventional recruitment methods”