Doppleganger

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: True Confessions  |  House: Booksie Classic


300 words. There is another me, in another dimension, that writes the same things I do, at the same time. We cancel each other out, with our writings. His words gets deleted, my words get deleted.
It pisses us off. But, it makes us happy to know that we are pissing ourselves off somewhere else, in some other time. We both feel the same way.

Submitted: May 18, 2018

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Submitted: May 18, 2018

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I feel like I am playing tricks on myself, from another dimension. In another time-line my dopple-ganger and I, somehow connect, in the wrong moment, more often than the right one, our mutual source, never bringing us together under the right circumstance, How many times have I put down my thoughts, told a story, screamed as loud as I could,only to have it be, erased, unheard, or invisible,gone forever? Who is speaking for us, me or my other one? Why aren't we as pissed off as much I am? 

I ask him, in my mind, thinking I will be heard by myself, in another time, how many times have we tried to edit, re-write, format, adjust our moment, after the fact, only to see, different points of view, lost in space. 

A blank page, where there were once a thousand and one words,discovering nothing, as we gave away everything, wasting our time. How many times?

How many times?

After a while it starts to feel like every-time, every chance we  choose to be here, holding on, letting it go,might mean the difference between our voice being heard, or our written words,falling upon deaf ears,scrawled into computer screen Braille.

Can I count? How many times?

Not this time,because these words are unimportant,like all a lot of the things we wrote, like all the ones we lost,trying to remember what we said; but who fucking cares? Me, now? Me, later?

Well, I should.This time.Everytime. Like, how I do, like how, I could. 

 You want to know how many times?  How often it has happened to me? How often it happened to us?

I lost count. That tells me something. That should tell them the truth, 

Just like all the things we never wrote.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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