Musing

We have lived many lives. Even in this one, we have lived plenty. We are not the people today that we will be tomorrow, and we sure aren’t the same people as we were yesterday. And we probably wouldn’t want to be.

I don’t know about you, but I don’t even recognise the people I used to be, yet I have been them in my nine lives I have had this time around. I wouldn’t want to be them, I don’t even like most of them, and I am not sure I understand them.

And none of this is even factoring in any ideas of reincarnation or multiverses. It is not even scratching the surface of the number of voices in our heads. And you know as well as I do that this is not some kind of psychosis, although it feels close sometimes, it is just the norm of it.

I am not the me in front of people I love that I am in front of those I serve to survive.  I am not he thief I am on Friday night that I am supposed to be on Sunday.

My avatars have a life of their own, I bet yours do to. I leave a trace longer than I can remember that only a few seem interested in, and their motives aren’t pure. Are yours? Are you even real? I am sorry, I must ask. Even though you can’t answer, at least not so I can hear you.

It is not surprising it gets confusing; it is meant to be. It is in the design.

We are many, yet we are one, connected. Broken, at times. Most times.

We are many, and the voices are confusing, but we are many, so don’t fuck with us. Even as we many are one. x

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artwork directed by me but created by wonder Ai