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Twistedly Scripted

Sometimes (and that time is usually when I'm home alone....which is almost always when I'm home), I wonder about this world...this existence...this life.

And I I'm wondering this weird shit (that always seems to be just below the surface) I'm the only one that wonders these things or just the only one that says it aloud?  And by aloud I mean on this blog (or sometimes in my journal).

Oh. The weird shit?

Right. So...sometimes I look around. As I move around. And see bits and baubles of my life. And I think that this is all familiar, but not because it's mine, but because it's scripted to be familiar. Like sometimes I'm playing a role.  I'm in some kind of movie. Or book. And there's this character. This Todd that is in the story. And he's the one going through this life. But he's me. So I guess I'm him. And then I think...if stories are actually reflections of other I in one of those playing the role of Todd.

I don't know how to explain it really. And I suppose any way that I try to explain it will make me sound somewhat like I need a vacation in a padded room. And I get that. I think what happens is we-as souls-are actually omnipresent in an infinite number of timelines. Of universes. When I dream, I live out pieces in other universes. And in this realm, this timeline, sometimes those others bleed over. And the other Todd's (or whatever the soul is named in those other universes) dreams are sometimes of this timeline. It seems like a dream to that soul, but real to me. Kinda like when I go to Dreamland. That is the reality of my soul's existence in another timeline, but a dream in regards to this timeline.

Again. I'm not sure if this makes any sense. It's crystal clear to me. And no where more tangible than about 3 or 4 in the afternoon on days when I'm off and just milling around my apartment. Things are familiar, but don't really seem like mine.

I...yeah. I got nothing, really. I suppose if there were a way for you to get inside my head for those 45 seconds when it happens, it might make sense to you too. But then again, would you want to? What happens to a person when they are stricken with the thought-virus that this life...this world, is but a shell? A suit that sits in a closet of suits. Each one as real as the one next to it on the rack. Perfectly tailored for the soul that wears it. Some very similar and some completely different. Some posh. Some threadbare, born of poverty. But each one designed for one soul and one soul only. You can't wear any of the suits in my closet and I can't wear any of the suits in yours.

So....when people change their destiny (as much as I hate that phrase), I think what happens is that they start mixing and matching pieces of the suit.   I'm in my 'normal guy, living paycheck to paycheck' suit at the moment. But every now and again, the instance of my soul living in this particular timeline decides to try on the 'World renowned Author' suit coat. It's like I just throw on the fancy blazer with my 'normal' khakis. It works. People still know it's me. And they also see a hint of what I can actually become. What I will be when I set the khakis aside and don the full Armani.

Can it happen? Can I straddle two universes?

I have no fucking idea, to be completely honest. And if I do...does that mean the Todd in the universe where I'm the well-known author will suddenly stop wearing that suit and become a normal dude? I'd like to think not. I'd like to think that on some level, those two timelines can be fused.

But I really don't know. I'm not sure how this all works. And when I say I'm not sure, what I mean is...I have a really good idea how it all works, but the physical construct that surrounds my soul in this particular existence is well aware of the fact that he's bordering on sounding bat-shit crazy and is better off to actually just do it instead of philosophizing about it to the masses.

So. Um yeah.

I think sometimes I need to take a writing course. I feel like I would benefit from a mentor or someone to keep me honest.

Alright...I'm gonna go ahead and let you get back to your own worlds for now. I think I've pulled the loose thread of the carpet of reality enough for one night. I know it's due to unravel, but I'm not sure that's meant to happen tonight.

Goodnight my friends



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