Talking To Myselves. Part 2

Just another attempt at visualising my mental process...

Again I find myself here,
sat here at The Table with the Me's of the past, the possible Myselves of the future, and I.

The setting always reflects our mindstate.
In this instance, the table sits in the centre of a shattered realm of mirrors and reflection. Each shard a piece of my psyche. A portal into my mind, my soul.
They fold and shift into and around and out of eachother, each window somehow sharing the space of those next to it, but simultaneously separate and unique.
Some windows bright, happy and inviting. Others dark, threatening and forboding.
The reality they each contained could be heard clearly, individually and vividly, yet the realm itself was silent. This place illuminated not from the light from these coexisting realities, but from the cracks between them.
The things that have happened. Things that almost happened. Things that might happen.
Fears. Hopes. Dreams.
Everything endlessly shifting, connected, yet isolated.

As always, the meeting starts when I arrive.

I take a seat at the Round Table.
A grey steel circle, with four legs. Emotionless and logical.
The metal of the table seemed to ignore the normal conventions of light, and gave no hint of wanting to reflect it's surroundings.
It stood on solid nothingness in the middle of this world, ready for the Meeting. Surrounded by an endless amount of seats, that were as always exactly as many as needed.

As I sit down, we arrive.
We step into this plane around the table as if stepping into any other ordinary room in the outside world.
Strides of varying confidence, looking straight ahead at myselves.
Our footsteps echo and the chairs scrape as they connect with the same nothing supporting the table. Infinite and numbered.
None of us stop to take in our surroundings.
It's almost irrelevant.
This is our mind. We live here.

No words are spoken as we sit down.
Each seat was identical in every way, but somehow seemed to belong to the me that sat in it. We each have our places and knew them well. They belong to us as much as as we to them.
A brief glance around the table as if we expect to notice one of us not in attendance. As if that was even possible.
A brief moment of contemplation.
I wonder why we're here.
Why I'm here.
We all know how this is going to go, why bother?

We all see the same look on my faces.

And The Meeting begins.