text: "It’s rather a lonely feeling, you know?” “What is?” “Being alone.” “Well of course that’s lonely. That’s sort of the definition of alone.” “But why does it have to be?” “Are you being serious?” “Absolutely.” “That’s just the way it is. I don’t make the rules.” “What rules are you talking about?” “The rules of language.” “Wait? Why are we talking about rules? Who cares about those rules. I’m getting off track. I’m supposed to be writing something.” “We’re getting off track.” “You’re not even real. I am just lonely and board and talking to myself.” “You’re not talking to yourself. You’re talking to me who is you. There’s a difference. And before you ask, the difference is that I’m a different you from an alternate dimension. Because we’re the same person, we can communicate telepathically. It just seems like you’re talking to yourself.” “If that’s the case, then we must both be doing the same thing. I’m writing everything we’re saying down. What are you doing?” “Shooting aliens with a blaster, hiding behind cover, and talking to you.” “Sounds like you have a far more exciting life then me.” “That’s debatable. Between the two of us, I’d rather be writing everything we’re saying down instead of maybe dying to day.” “Do you think our lives are connected?” “What?” Like, when you die, I die, every one of us in every dimension dies at the same time.” “Why would it be like that?” “Because we are one in the same. If what I’m talking to is not a voice in my head, but actually another me, then that would mean every voice my head is just a different me from a different dimension communicating with me. Actually, now that I say it that way, we probably have different lives. Sometimes, certain voices do just vanish.” “Why did you even bother think about that?” “Well, I was hoping to help you in your situation. If we are all connected, none of us can die until all of us will die, then you had nothing to fear today. You weren’t going to die because I’m certainly not dying today.” “That’s a nice thought but we keep getting off from the point.” “Right? What is the point?” “I don’t know! You’re the one that started talking to me. I’m assuming you had something to help me out of this situation.” “All I said was that I felt alone, I needed to write, and I started talking to the voice inside my head which turned out to be another me from a different dimension. Which, I’m still certain that is what this. I’m just really board and alone and trying to feel less lonely by talking to myself.” “God, I wish I was you right now.” “Why?” “Because you have the time to waste doing nothing. I just killed about a dozen insectoid cyborg zombie demons, lost my best friend, and I’m certain I’m going to die.” “See, right there, that sounds more like a figment of my imagination then an alternate version of myself. ‘Insectoid cyborg zombie demons’ is me just trying to make the most absurd sounding enemies to kill. Plus, shouldn’t you be more sad that your best friend died?” “You haven’t lived in this chaos filled dimension. Best friends die every day. If I was sad for everyone of them then I would never stop crying. But I don’t have to cry. I have to survive.” “I don’t want to have your life -” “Nor should you.” “- but I’m still jealous of you.” “The feeling’s mutual. Go on.” “I feel like I have no purpose. You, at the very least, need to survive. Surviving isn’t an issue for me. Which, sorry for rubbing that in your face. But without the same challenge as you, I don’t know what to do.” “DO something.” “Damn it! I knew you were going to say that before I finished writing down what I said. That’s something I say to people that are acting just like I’m acting now. I can’t believe a me, that might be just me, but possible is another me from another dimension, told me to do the thing that I get mad at others for not doing.” “So, what is it you aren’t doing?” “Signing up for some dating apps.” “Seriously? That’s your big struggle?” “Hey, the apps looked like crap. Plus, I’m wearing my pajamas and I’m certain that the app is going to require taking a picture of myself.” “Then change.” “I have another excuse. The big one. I’m still friends with my ex and I’m moving in less than two months. So, out of respect for him, I’m waiting until I move to sign-up for any apps.” “That’s more reasonable. But, he’s your ex. Your life shouldn’t be dictated by him anymore. Why not go on dates?” “I’d rather not poke the beehive. But also, because of the fact that I’m moving, whoever I meet here couldn’t become anything more than a fling. I don’t want that, nor do I want to do that to somebody. Once I move, I can meet plenty of people. I can try for a serious relationship then.” “That’s another reasonable answer. I wouldn’t expect less from a different version of myself. So, what about poking the beehive?” “Not getting into that with you. I’m still certain that you’re a figment I made up.” “Sorry, wasn’t listening.” “Sorry, I wasn’t listening either. I found a post on reddit that I related a lot to. I had to respond. Responded three times in fact. Not sure if I should have done that but I needed to. What have you been up to while I was doing that." “. . .” “Sorry again. Went back to the post. I started exchanging messages. This is far more important that whatever’s going on with you. So, what’s been going on with you?” “You missed the entire ambush. I was freaking out, screaming, ‘Die you bug basters!’ And trying to get your attention. You asshole, you really rather be on a post than here in your head? You missed the epic one liner, which I refuse to say again, and I killed the alien queen. Also, what’s reddit?” “A place where people talk about things.” “You’re complaining about being alone when you have a place to talk to people? What a little bitch.” “One second. A new comment came up. I have to check it.” “Asshole.” “Back again. Where did we leave off?” “I blew up the planet. Now I’m back at space station Vex. You real missed all the amazing things.” “No, I didn’t. Your world might be full of action, but my world is full of emotion. I’m talking to this guy and we’re having the most . . . well . . . I wouldn’t say amazing conversation seeing as we're both feeling lonely. But we’re having a good conversation. Something meaningful. You’re right. I have it better off. I like talking to people. Better than almost dying every day. We’ll talk again sometime. I’ve got to post this story. How Meta.