I just finished a human life experience.

 I just finished a human life experience.  I left my body.  Body died.  I am alive, conscious, in space.  Now what?  
A voice in my head asks, “What do you want?”  
“What’s available?”  I ask.
“Whatever you can imagine,” was the answer.
I ponder that.  What do I want?  “I’m not sure,” I said.
“When you’re sure, let me know,” said the voice.
I keep pondering, thinking, picturing.  In the meantime I’m hanging out in space.  It’s empty, except for me.
I’m not uncomfortable, but there’s nothing around me, so I imagine a room, and immediately I am in a room.  It’s empty.  Since imagining has an effect, I color it tan, place a bed, easy chair, big screen TV, small kitchenette, bathroom.  Kind of like a self-sustaining jail cell with all the conveniences.  I imagine a window.  
Outside is a tree, a birds nest, and birds flitting about.  It midday, sun is bright, but not blinding.  I went to walk to the window and look out to see more, but at the thought I was outside standing on grass and saw mountains, rivers, everything pleasant, like a lovely scene from earth.  Then imagined a storm brewing, wind picking up, tree waving, rain beginning, and at the thought I was on a porch, sitting in a recliner, watching the storm come in.  I kept watching, thinking, “OK, now what?”
Then I recalled the voice in my head saying, “Whatever you can imagine.”
I said to myself, “Yeah, I know.  I just don’t know.”
Since I can have whatever I imagine, I check my bucket list of things I wanted to do that I hadn’t done when on earth, or that I enjoyed so much I wanted to do it again, maybe tweaked a little here and there, kind of like running a movie on speed dial so things appeared and disappeared quickly.  I didn’t stay long upon any image, for they tended to materialize more fully, more detailed the longer I reflected upon them.  
At the end of the imagining I realized I didn’t have a bucket list, and this materializing  of thoughts needed to slow down so I could examine things more fully, and at that thought, they slowed down, didn’t materialize, just stayed images in my consciousness.  
So now what?  Before I died, I was older, nearing ninety.  Hell of an experience being forced to slow down by age, funny as hell, damn entertaining, aches, pains and all, but enough of that, so I thought, OK, I want to be young again, nineteen, but retain what I have learned.  I saw myself being nineteen, and I was.  Cool.  
Back when I was nineteen on earth, I didn’t ever know what I wanted, not really.  To me it was about whatever showed up next, like let’s see what happens if I try this or do that.  I was a loner, liked being alone, and yet, doing stuff with others was OK, even fun, but kind of entangling.  I was always careful where things would lead to, consequences, how what I wanted or did affected others.  If I didn’t do anything, no affect.  Watching a movie, no affect.  Sleeping, no affect.  Sitting, eating, no affect.  Of course there were affects, but not to others, except my wants and needs affected my mom, so I went for a lot of walks around town, mindless walking until an idea popped into my head, and if interesting enough, with “What will it be like, what will happen?” curiosity.  I recall joining the Army with that perspective, and a “Why the hell not?”  It was the same reason I volunteered for Viet Nam.  I was bored with Fort Sill, Oklahoma.
Recalling all that brought me back to the here and now, so I sat in my easy chair, reclined, and kept thinking, “OK, dude, what do you want to experience next?”  Shit, I’m back at a new beginning that ain’t begun yet because I have to do something, think something, imagine something.    What do I want to do?
Everything I could think of was coming from my memories.  People, things I did, didn’t do, didn’t complete, like that small cabin in the wilderness.  Could do that.  I’m stuck in memories, previous inclinations.  Kind of limiting just reviewing things.  I always wanted to know how certain things work by hands on learning, like building a small gas engine from scratch.  I remember wanting to sign up for a course on small engine repair, but then time, money, was a concern, and the always present, “Then what?  Are you going to do it over and over again for a living?”  Hell no.  I’m just temporarily curious.  I’m not after that lifestyle.  But now, with no time or money constraints, I could make a choice just for the joy of doing things.  
I can do things I haven’t done.  And do things I have done, but really enjoyed, like being young, have a girl friend, and go on adventures, and experience unknown consequences, and yet, knowing, from reason and logic, what consequences might arise, is a buzz killer.  Knowing too much, recalling too much, can be a pain in the ass. It’s like reliving things immediately, discarding this and that, and you’re left with nothing you want to do.
I’m back to square one.  Fuck it, I’ll just take a nap, or build that small cabin I ain’t never built yet.  So then I reflected on my time before I came to earth.
So you going to earth or not?  
I don’t know.  What’s the point?
Adventure, the unknown.  Not knowing shit.  Don’t know what will happen.  Forgetting everything.  See where your inclinations, disposition and tendencies take you.  Not bored.  Do shit you haven’t done yet.
It’s pretty comfortable here.  I imagine it and I get it.  Why leave it?  
The more you learn the more you can imagine, more stuff you can morph into new stuff.  That’s a good reason.
True.  But I can just stay here and watch the movie, learn without total physical involvement, just some of my senses.
That’s not really doing it.  That’s pretend, a simulation, it’s like you’re an analogy, just mind games, not the same as really being committed, fully there.
Yeah, I know.  They drill that into us.  ‘Do the thing.  Don’t just imagine it.’  Makes you wonder why they push it so hard.
All the pushers have done it, been there, experienced it.  They say its worth it.  Totally unlike here.  Things are real there, physical.  Makes being here seem unreal.
Well why don’t you go then?
Because if I go, when I get back, I’ll be able to have kids who will be pushed to go.  It’s a never ending friggin cycle.  
So quit pushing me.
It’s my nature.  You go and come back and tell me what happened.  
You’re the guy who pushes people into pools.
Yup.  Better you than me.
You’re an asshole.
True, but without people like me, earth wouldn’t be worth going to.
If you think about it, that’s just plain weird.  Leave heaven for hell.  Good plan.
It’s not my plan.  I don’t recall volunteering.  It just how life does things, does us.  We didn’t have a say because we didn’t exist, and once we got made, it was too late, so here we are.
Maybe I’ll just figure out how to get unmade.
Good luck.