I don’t think preferences or personalities can exist outside earthly existence. Preferences rely on the presence of alternatives — and the various facets of our personalities seem to rely on ignorance and impermanence. A group of all-knowing eternal perfected beings would have everything in common, there’d be no surprises, no misunderstandings or overreactions. So in that sense, it probably doesn’t make sense that we’d exist as individuals beyond our earthly existence.
Instead, we might be a single entity experiencing existence, scattered amongst many bodies. And if you think about it, an individual human grown in an isolated vat isn’t much, it’s not until this creature is exposed to the whole of humanity that his imagination and emotions come alive. In that sense, the organism is humanity, individuals are merely its constituent cells.
But these cells live oddly dramatic lives, which is a suspicious thing. Humanity doesn’t march toward efficiency as much as it maintains an emotion-inducing spectacle. In other words, this realm seems artificial in that it maintains the balance of existence yet fosters a melodrama among its inhabitants. Humanity appears suspended in a state of perpetual ignorance, a condition necessary for the creation of suspense, the foundation of all entertainment.
Who am I, who is that, where am I, what is this, why is this happening, how does it work, what’s next, when will it end? Through perpetual uncertainty, every individual is provided the perspective to live life anew. But in the depths of consciousness, we sense a greater understanding, an awareness comprehending much more than our individual circumstances suggest possible. We are both beast and god.
What could this world be, but a funhouse for one that already knows everything, a place to get lost amongst enduring drama. So we aren’t meant to dismiss this drama, but embrace it, as it was created for us by us. This is the playground in which God frolics, the garden in which his fruit grows. There is no better place than this, else we would be there now.
What’s real when we’re surrounded by impermanence. Everything is virtual, existing for but a moment. To play we must lose ourselves to the moment, forgetting our origin, yet we must not lose sight of play’s lighthearted nature, nor our underlying connection to one another as playmates. Play can be cruel or kind, we must remember enough of ourselves to always play gently.