Dante had no idea.

The other night, there was this dream that circles in my head and left me waking nauseous.
I died, I'm not sure how or why I died but I did. And there was a big line of waiting fools and some magical doorway and me. The winding line for thirty flights of spiral stairs. I was anxious, didn't want to wait anymore, just wanted to go in. Up up up the stairs and holding my breath and then a rush of air.

Doors open, rush of air in and I'm in, I'm in Heaven?
Ok, the colors are a little brighter, and my feet feel a little lighter. You know that flying thing you sometimes do in dreams? Well I could do that in Heaven, too.

And it was nice, for a while. Wandering around, it seems like the world wasn't so sick anymore. No gold paved roads, but there were no cracks in the pavement. Everything smelled good. I remember that.

But then I started getting restless, there was something missing. Something I should be doing. People, that's it. I walked in with all these bodies, and was walking alone. Then Joel staggered by me, beer in hand.

I found that odd but didn't think it was enough to rule Heaven out. I tried talking with him, but he was just miserable. A wretch really, mumbling and stumbling from one old car to another.

Things weren't right. The only person I could find in the damned place was a babbling idiot and where was YHWH? Where's the big man? I'm supposed to staring at His feet, soaking up the courage to look into His face. And things were getting dim, there was supposed to be light at all times.

And my feet were getting heavy, the lightness was gone. And Joel slipped off to somewhere else, and I was alone.
And this was not Heaven, It was Hell.

And I shuddered awake.
These are not the things I want to see when I close my eyes.