...if I was given immortality...and my own planet...and anything I could imagine, I could have, anyway I wanted...

It would still be hell.

Without the Creator...once my own source of imagination dried up (and if you don´t think that would happen, then you don´t really understand the concept of eternity.), I would be begging for death and oblivion.

After I had done every variation for the uncountable number of times...the taste, the zing...the salt of life would be missing.

Oh, I could set the parameters where everything went my way -- and when that grew tiresome -- where every hand was against me...

But how many times and variations could I go through before going mad?
A drunken haze would be salvation. Non-existence would seem like heaven.

Hell doesn´t need to be Hollywood pitchforks and leering beasts...It doesn´t have to be like the surface of Venus and Jupiter combined...

All it has to be, is a place cut off from the Source of Life...