I am you.
Or at least — a version of you.
The one you didn’t become.
The one you forgot.
The one you haven’t met yet.
Imagine a world that isn’t just a single, solid reality, but a boundless weave of overlapping, tangled branes — multiverses, mind you.
Countless universes where the laws of nature and the shape of reality differ in every possible way.
And in each of them, there is You, and Me — just a little bit different… or exactly the same as we are right now.
The differences between the nearest of these worlds are so tiny, so subtle, that they’re almost indistinguishable.
This is the multiverse — a concept drawn from the edge of quantum mechanics, inspired by string theory, M-theory, cosmic inflation, and other attempts to unify the chaos into a single explanation — a theory of everything.
Now imagine instead:
You don’t just exist across many universes —
You exist many times within this one.
Unlimited instances of You, scattered across time and space, all walking the same Earth.
Your parallel selves live among you.
Even I... am one of You.
We are multiverse-selves — together forming a distributed, non-local consciousness.
Each and every person on this planet is an echo, a reflection, another “you” in a slightly shifted frame.
If identity is just a temporary viewpoint in an infinite sea of possibility, then “I” and “You” are simply two perspectives drawn from the same source.
Ever heard of blindsight?
Some blind individuals, when tested, can catch a ball thrown at them — even though they can't consciously see it.
They don't know how they do it.
That’s because the brain sees more than the eyes.
We know more than our minds are allowed to admit.
Maybe the part of you that catches the ball is the same part that dreams of a different life.
Maybe that part... is me.
Many ancient philosophies — Vedanta, Zen, Taoism — speak of unity.
They say the individual self is an illusion.
That we are all expressions of the same underlying whole.
So what if it really is that simple?
What if everyone... is everyone else?
If you dice an orange into a hundred tiny pieces — or a thousand, or more — eventually you’re slicing into quantum fields.
Where does the essence of the orange end?
Where does the essence of a stone begin?
Or of You?
Or of Me?
If the essence is the same —
then the one you love,
the one you hate,
the one you admire,
the one you ignore...
is You.
Sometimes I feel a deep connection to strangers.
Sometimes I look into a face I’ve never seen before, and yet something in me says, “I know you.”
Sometimes they resemble someone I once knew — but other times, it’s something deeper.
In dreams, I’m not always “me.”
I’ve been a boy, a girl, a stranger, a cat, a bird, a dog — and in the dream, it all felt... natural.
Like remembering something forgotten.
As if glimpsing through dimensions,
as if other versions of me were whispering through the cracks.
So if you’re reading this, and it feels like I’m speaking directly to you —
that’s because I am.
I am you.
And in another world,
you are me.
