I like to think there are parallel universes in which decisions I made or that were made for me splintered off of the path I took and another existence proceeded. I like to imagine the me that took up Duke on the offer to be part of their TIP program in the 7th grade. That there is a me that was encouraged in school, did well, and went to a four year college. That I gained confidence earlier and never missed out on three years of socializing with anyone but the one kid that constantly treated me like shit in junior high. That I never left Dallas and there is a me that is constantly strung out and spare changing with Alan for another spoonful. That there is a me that got sick of it all, actually hopped a train, lives in squats, has stick and poke tattoos, a dog for protection, and always smells horrid. I like to think of a me that never quit drawing, that spends the evening bombing walls, trading drawings, and playing shitty music. That there is a me that hung out with Richard and Roy and were there when they killed that dude and am serving a life sentence with them. That there is a me that actually likes this nine to five bullshit, has a quiet suburban house, a cat I loathe that belongs to my wife, and a couple kids that occupy all of my attention. That there is a me kissed Sarah that night instead of moving a couple months later. That there is a me that got to play sports in school, washed out of baseball, and now coaches high school baseball somewhere. That there is a me that has been in and out of jail. That there are a half dozen dead incarnations that never quite got lucky or was too distracted to catch on quick enough to avoid the dumb shit mistakes I almost made. I like to play what if because it beats the shit out another long boring day of pretending to give a shit about work.