Louise and Matt were mingling at the casino floor like they always loved to. They met each other on gaming vacation in Las Vegas and decided to share their future life and gambling adventures together. A house mortgage and kid on the college later — result of a frugal life they decided to pursue, enough to live modest and happy, yet still be able to occasionally and responsibly enjoy in baccarat and roulette — they’ve met their end together in violent crash accident in Arizona, on a way to their son’s graduation.
Now, with no worries whatsoever, they were enjoying in the greatest casino ever looking for…
Vivian and George, a middle-aged couple trying their luck at table game on the other side of the hall. A power couple from the onset, they were all you would envision in success. Well educated, lucratively employed, beautiful house and three kids attending private schools, summers spent in Europe, winters in Colorado, and life regularly embellished with high stakes, ruthless games of poker or blackjack.
If it wasn’t for the horrendous storm broaching their sailing boat on the cruise to Bermuda, if their bodies were not entangled in the mess below the deck and remained submerged for days, they would still live their fairytale.
Now, they were sitting stone-faced at Twenty-One table when Louise and Matt showed up with a new round of cocktails.
Four of them were among numerous residents at the place yet to be fully comprehended. Every gambler in the world, without exception, finishes in arguably the most unique casino we know so little about.
To enter is easy.
No particular security measures or biometric technology involved, no high-limit invitation-only pits, the red carpet is for everyone. Please, by all means, jump in, so nice to have you, feel at home.
To exit is quite a different story.
Everyone is welcome to explore the gambling palace; hospitality is on par with the highest royal expressions of a state visit in the United Kingdom combined with Las Vegas’ treatment of baccarat whales. But, every tenant is…
The unlimited one at a limitless domicile it will never leave.
It is difficult for us, here and now, to grasp with such construct of space, time, and the plane of existence. To the imagination, on the other hand, that’s no issue at all. The imagination is not hindered nor inhibited with trivialities and proportions of metaphysics or reality.
While the name of the place is yet to be made, what it is — is crystal clear.
Gambling afterlife, the Heaven and Hell reserved for gamblers only.
No matter the number of arguments and objections on the plausibility of the idea, including disbelief in the concept of life after death, once the tiny bit of creativity steps into the imaginary gambling realm — anything is possible.
After all, a chance is the chance, right?
We won’t be able to answer all questions or to provide a rational explanation for everything, but we do not strive to do such a thing. Instead, we want to light your inner sparkle and send you on the quest for answers. Which is what any good story should attempt to do.
As with anything related to gambling — it’s meant to be fun. If it ain’t fun, what it is then for?
To kick it off, there is a simple notion.
Gambling afterlife is not what it looks like, it is not what you think it is.
As a devoted gambler, you’d finish in the most spectacular afterlife casino yet to be made in life. The scale? Infinitely beyond anything conceivable by earthly senses.
Envision everything you ever wanted of a gambling hall as an appendage to, say, Emirates Palace in Abu Dhabi. Then, multiply it by ten, spice it with whatever vices and virtues you can imagine, add most intimate desires and public statements you ever had — and you won’t come even close.
That is the palace where we meet Louise and Matt, Vivian and George.
You can play any game you want, anytime, unlimited. No forbidden fruits here. Dealers at table games usually involve your fantasy girl or your imaginary knight or ___________________________. (Fill in the blanks freely. Relax, no one’s watching.)
The iGaming possibilities are way above the virtual reality, artificial intelligence, or any technological advance we can currently witness on Earth. Digital pleasures gamify you, not the other way around.
You play baccarat while in your hot tube. You are inside the roulette ball spinning on 4Gs at the wheel as you observe the outcome. In blackjack, you are Diamonds Ace or the Queen of Hearts (since any queen needs its king, you can always opt to be the King of Hearts).
When you win in any game, you can feel the money as it showers your body.
The casino features this option as Capital Massage. Depending on your affinity and the amount won, you get to choose between Green option, reserved for paper money, and Gold option, reserved for metal coins. This feature is mostly employed by slots players.
(Imagine being gently showered with ten grand in coins or $10 paper denominations all over your body. Naked, of course. And no, you’re not alone at the moment since you’ve filled those blanks wisely.)
The hotel and amenities itself — well, Michelin is yet to come with a number of stars to describe it. If you would take all stars in the sky you’re part of as you reside in this palace, they probably wouldn’t do it justice.
The opulence, luxury, extravaganza, the unhindered and lavish treatment is omnipresent, available to any player, forever.
It doesn’t matter whether you end up in Heaven in Hell, you can utilize everything at your disposal relentlessly, with no limits whatsoever. The purpose is for you to never want to leave the place.
What is, then, so hellish in all of this, you might wonder? There’s not a single ardent gambler that wouldn’t want to end up in such afterlife.
The difference between Heaven and Hell is inside you. Only you know where you belong.
Once in gambling afterlife, you spend your time together with others, but only you know whether you’re in paradise or perdition. How? By joy you have and senses you satisfy.
If you are in Heaven, you enjoy in everything and get to feel it on a far larger scale you ever did in your life. Waves of pleasure, mountains of happiness, eruptions of contentment in the perpetual and infinite saturation. Even when bad losses happen or things go against your wishes — some things are the same in any life — you’ll feel good about it.
If you are in Heaven, you don’t want anything to stop and nothing ever does.
If you are in Hell, the things you can feel are only negative and destructive emotions. You’re incapacitated to feel content no matter what happens. You are not numb but very selectively able to feel everything except positive vibes. When you win, you cannot be happy. If you want to enjoy something, you cannot feel it. When you see your most intimate desire, you cannot sense the excitement.
You’re not blind or deaf, you notice others in utter ecstasy, but you don’t get to redial it. Ever. The only thing you’re able to perceive is the void filling with the most infernal thoughts and sensations you create.
If you are in Hell, you want everything to stop and nothing ever does.
Both gamblers in Heaven and Hell are treated equally by casino staff. Both players in Heaven and Hell have the same amenities at their disposal. No one is deprived of anything. If you were to observe them together, you couldn’t tell the difference.
But they do. Forever.
As is with any afterlife, it’s all about the expulsion and admission, punishment and reward. These terms are present with humans since the dawn of time and are of paramount importance.
Back in tribal days, the admission to the tribe meant one will survive upcoming winter or have protection from elements; it was considered as a rewardful experience. The expulsion from the community was equal to a slow and painful death in the wilderness, devoid of food, water, shelter; it was deemed as the capital punishment.
That is why the majority today crave acceptance and get petrified of rejection.
Consequently, to be in gambling Heaven is to be admitted to yourself whereas to be in gambling Hell is to be expelled from yourself.
If you’re in Heaven, you’ll win in almost any game, with any bet. Experiences will be juicy, sometimes even overwhelming, and you’ll enjoy it utterly. Other times, joy and fun will suffice, even when you lose. When enjoying hotel amenities, you’ll indeed be able to understand the meaning of the word ecstasy.
As you venture through the casino floor, you’ll be able to see a guy in Hell standing right next to you.
Now, he’ll never be able to feel anything you do, and he knows it. He’ll never win a thing, he’ll keep losing ad nauseam. Whatever he touches will come crashing down on him. More desperate he becomes, more he will lose. Casino staff will try to help him, they will provide for best dealers there is, they will put him in the best company they have but to no avail.
Coursing his faith, even in the afterlife, he’ll be able to see Louise and Matt winning hugely on the baccarat table. He will feel bitter rage, deafening envy, and depthless sorrow no one will be able to see, for he is in Hell, sentenced to be there alone and unseen.
Just like Vivian and George.
And no matter how often Louise wanted to share her thoughts with Vivian, no matter how hard Matt tried to interest George into games at hand, tactics, and luck, nothing would ever come out of their interactions.
For Heaven and Hell just don’t get along well. In real life as well as in the afterlife. And yet again, they coexist since the dawn of the time.
In the end, it all boils down to our perception of expulsion and admission, punishment and reward.
When we buy a lottery or parlor games ticket, we perceive that we purchased the option to potentially give us own paradise. We understand it is unlikely to win it, but the chance itself gives us hope.
The ritual of participating in even theoretical possibility to win can relive our stress and elevate our mood. The improved mood we experience as we gamble springs not only from the activity itself but from belief in a fortunate outcome.
Consequentially, we feel better even if we don’t win. Still, it is an experience we’re willing to repeat again and again.
If we decide to see heaven, it is exactly how we will feel — admission and reward aplenty regardless of the actual outcome.
But…
When we dare to relentlessly cling to gains, those must-have benefits nobody ever promised us, when we decide to pursue them regardless of consequences to ourselves and others, not even the greatest win can deliver paradise. Not even the unlikeliest outcome can quench the thirst of permanent distress and ensuing addiction.
Consequentially, we cannot feel better even if we win. Still, it is an experience we’re willing to repeat over and over again.
When we decide to see hell that is exactly where we will be — in perpetual expulsion and punishment no matter of the outcome.
No living person can tell us what we indeed have to do to deserve a place in Heaven or Hell. No living person actually have any idea what happens afterward, if something happens at all. (Few books provide for a plethora of opinions, but that’s not what we’re here for.)
But anybody can understand that it is up to us to decide whether we’ll be in heaven or hell as we live our earthly lives. It has nothing to do with things we experience but with our perception.
As long as our awareness is surrounded by responsibility, educated guesses, the prepared mind favored by chance, skillful performances, propensity to have fun, and just a tiny bit of luck with plenty of love, we shall be in heaven.
Particularly when we gamble.
After all, what if this life is only preparation for what follows? What if? Dunno about you, but it would be a shame to miss that Capital Shower someday.
In any life.
[Author’s note: special thanks to Tatjana Markovic for morning coffee in January 2019, and a conversation that transcended conceivable boundaries.]