Talking to Myselves - Part 3

Another spoken word expression of my state of mind.

06/07/23

I blink, and I'm here again. A storm of white shapes splashed with colour surrounds us.
Playing cards, eternally tumbling from what was likely a house of cards once.
A cascade so heavy that we can't make out what lies beyond them. An avalanche with no discernible beginning or end.

The cards don't seem to touch us. Or the table. Or the floor. If there even is a floor here. They fall past us and beyond us into an expanse filled only with more cards, eternally tumbling.
Then, the same noise, so familiar now. Heavy metal chairs being pulled along the non-existent or at least imperceptable wood floors.

An unknowable number of 'me's, all prepared to take our seats, but I pause. We pause, simultaneously.
You see, we are supposed to be every version of me, across all of possibility. The path of every choice, every action, every thought and every accident reflected here by another me, each one living a life as real as the me beside themselves.
But, if that was true, if that was the reality of this place, then why do we all have the same look in our eyes? The same empty sadness? Loss? Hopelessness?
I had always taken solace in the knowledge that statistically, one of me had to be doing better than I was, but...

What happened to me?
Did we all make the same mistake? Or an infinite number of unique mistakes, occuring in that same instance?
And then it hits me.
The cards. The collapsing house of cards that we're trapped in.
It's all falling apart, isn't it?

Author's Note

Not trying to win any awards, just trying to express myself.