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what the hell. you came into my house, you disrespected my family? shit on my dog? you don’t even know my dog. my dog has done nothing to you! stop eating those chicken nuggets and listen to me. no, i’m not just rambling incoherently. i got real ass facts to lay down about life. this is reality and you are a fucking speck in the macrosm of existence. let’s talk about the multiverse! there is an infinite number of universes, where every possibility for every event that has ever happened has occurred an infinite number of times. that’s some deep shit. there’s a universe where our noses have one nostril and a universe where our skin is blue and a universe—multiple—where humanity doesn’t even exist. where there are no planets, only blackness and void and the sound of a long sigh echoing through the cosmos. there’s a universe where we developed wings instead of arms, great wings with a span of twelve feet. and another universe wherein we evolved those same wings but don’t measure them in feet, or meters, but in a different measuring system called kalstos. there are universes where you fall in love, and universes you die alone. others where you die as a child, alone and lost in the woods or on a spaceship millions of miles from your home. there are universes where you lose all your hair and others where you grow it on every inch of your body. in one of those universes you a supermodel. a supermodel covered in hair that’s scheduled to be on the first flight to mars which takes place in twenty kalstos.

and still, more universes, more possibilities. in some you are a barber and some you are a bartender and in others a barbie doll manufacturer. in some you don’t exist, but your sister does. in some you exist but your sister doesn’t. in some, you exist, same combinations of proteins making up your dna exactly, but you have completely different parents. one of the yous is a soldier and one is a doctor and one has a third foot growing out of their stomach. in some universes the sun burnt out long ago but humanity survived, somehow, someway, the way they do. in other universes the moon never separated from the earth and we don’t have tides and the seas don’t move the way they should.

in one universe you wrote a book and you are beloved. in another universe you committed genocide and you are still beloved. in yet another universe no one has heard your name, other than whispered in shameful tones. in one universe your life is exactly the same as it is in this one, but the time you flipped a coin on whether or not to kiss that boy in fifth grade on a dare turned out differently. you didn’t kiss him, but it changed nothing. once, in a very strange universe indeed, you fell from a cliff and landed on a trampoline and bounced off of it into a nearby pond and all your friends exclaimed it was totally sick, dude. in some universes you go to sleep early and in others you have never had a bed and in others you only sleep in hammocks.

there are all these possibilities and all these places and all this potential, filled and unfilled and wasted and never existing. a neverending supply of choices and re-dos and yous and not-yous and almost-yous and might’ve-been-yous. everything, ever, that ever was, that ever will be, and ever is.

An entirety of eternal universes, infinite and grand, and I have to live in the one universe where you broke in and shit on my dog. Go fuck yourself.