I like to believe there are an infinite number of presents, shaded slightly differently; infinite “me”s; infinite “you"s; infinite different versions of past outcomes and future possibilities; all duplicated ad infinitum; where all the conceivable possibilities of nothing exist alongside all the possible predictions of something. Sometimes I wonder if a part of me doesn’t also exist in all these other near versions of the present, in all the other simulation tracks running concurrently through ours ...