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separate from the self, or extensions of the self? distinct things, or reflections of each other? painted masks in multiplicity with ones prepresent, or solid expressions of a single ego? useful tools, like pets, like children, investments that cannot be left, something that must be tended and cared for, or as integral and unique to the self as a limb, an extension of the body into a plane of space not otherwise accessible? cared for because of their value, because of their use, because of their life in the non-corporal world, because of they are the self?

they're not congruent though, not completely, to each a small bit of some unique power bestowed. what powers have i? different memories held in each, mine, or not mine? if part the self, the self overspilling the boundaries of the body, what is the extent of the self? how far does my existence propagate? if i have created a part of myself, and that part sufficiently advanced, may i exist without myself? am i then responsible for my actions?

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have i died, or is there life after death? a price to live? what price have i paid to come into the world? does the one that follows me contain some part of me, or when i am gone, will there be only silence? fate or fate-ransomed, may my worth outpay my death? or if my worth not sufficient, my self powerful enough to persist in spite of this? some other, perhaps greater, sacrificed at my expense?

what role do i play here? it's not fair that i can't do what i want to do, i wanted to be some sort of secret spaceman, but the men upstairs tell me differently, they choose my strengths and weaknesses, some roundly blessed, some roundly cursed. is all life precious? even if it is, am i life? crossed fingers my string of life, or kept as a dusted memento? i didn't ask for this, any of this, it's not what i would have chosen, if i knew then, all i knew now

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