Are My Dreams Glimpses Into Parallel Realities?
Content Warnings: minor mentions of violence and night terrors
Parallel realities exist beyond our eyes
I wonder how my parallel selves are doing?
Surely they’ve made better choices than I
sometimes dream, and wonder if those are little
windows into their lives
My day dreams are
pleasant and kind I imagine
becoming a famous writer, accepting
some award, not an Oscar, no, a smaller award for
my work, something more achievable
and work my way up to an Oscar for a script
or maybe becoming a painter and have galleries in LA
with beautiful and haunting pieces some reviewer calls “Wonderful”
Even though I haven’t touched a brush in ages
Or being a fashion designer
Beautiful dresses made of fine fabric with exquisite drapery
Made for the every day and for the red carpets
Just because the me of this reality
can’t sew worth a damn, doesn’t mean the other me can’t
I’m sure the other me’s have mastered all kinds of skills by now
But I don’t dream at night much anymore, not since my youth
I don’t know what crimes my parallel selves have done
to earned being shot, stabbed, tortured by
shadowy demonic figures who laugh
at my suffering, who delight when
I struggle to wake up in a sweat
While those nightmares no
longer plague my nights
I can’t help but wonder
If that means all my
parallel selves
are all
Dead.