Nothing!!

Well, there are an infinite number of universes, and the Me that i am is mundane by that standard. I am always a piece of shit, a hack, writing awful poetry, and laughable prose. I don’t even have the mental ability to bring myself to write something without a prompt. What a loser. What an ultra dimensional equivalent to a worm. The only difference between al us MEs is that we were cut off at different points from some main branch of a loser-ME and since then we have grown ourselves anew out of the trauma.

Now what sets me apart from non-MEs is a whole, vast expanse of failures, fakeries, and flatulence of my on creation. It is not that I don’t try to be a real human being, It’s just, that it just doesn’t work. Sooner or later , reality or a cursery examination of what i do, blows the cover.

Rejoice, my friends instead of puke, for it is better to look at the bright side; at least you are not a ME.