Does the weight of your multiple existences ever seem likely to crush you? I've lived in enough small towns across the country to know I can't be the only person grappling with this problem.
In one world, where Death perches on the moon and ravens whisper secret(more)s to her, I am a robot with carefully modulated voice and emotions, and software in place of a soul. It's not a bad life, but it's a little weird.
In another plane of existence, I'm a character in a fantasy world, eating and drinking mysterious things that send me shooting up to bang my head on the rafters, then shrinking to the size of a windblown dandelion leaf, searching through endless keys to unlock a door that might never open.
And here, right here in this square little universe, I'm lost in the woods with a slavering wolf. See? Just hover your cursor up there at the top right. And that's all that needs to be said about that.
If a soul can stretch through three universes, can it stretch through more? Boundless, eternal - so they say. But where is the brick wall? Where do we run out of room and find ourselves pulling a U-y? What's at the end of the universe(s) anyway?
Is there a border? Is there anywhere we can stand and say "This is where I am right now. In this spot, I am not torn into a million pieces. Here, I know who I am."
I don't know. When I disentangle from the three little universes I juggle like a goddess in motley, I walk out into a much bigger universe, where my identity fractures further, into large wicked shards and grains of gritty dust that drift away on winds blowing from the other side of forever.