me, myself and i

Is it weird that I feel like I’d enjoy hanging out with myself? I was thinking the other day what if I could be in a room with many different me’s, but each at a different stage of my life. There would be a 6 year old farid, before he starts elementary school, not a care in the world and probably annoying all the grown-ups around him (most people in that age group are not fun). There would be an 8 year old farid, in 2nd grade, learning the world around him and worried about memorizing persian poetry for school. A 14 year old farid, thinking he’s a man, and knows everything and is smarter than most people around him – what a jerk. The 18 year old, much more mature, thinking about his future, but still having it pretty easy and of course the 22 year old, with a million responsibilities wishing he could be 6 again. Maybe there would be a 2 year old farid, barely talking and pooping his pants, that’d be one I’ve always wanted to see.

 

If this were at all possible, what would I do, with ‘myselves’? I figure the 6 and 8 year old would just be playing with matchbox cars, occasionally the 22 year old would join in. The 18 year old would be too worried about his appearance and the females. The 14 year old would try to fit in with the older crowd, but he’d probably be made fun of by the 18 and 22 year old for his cockiness (what was I thinking?). Other than that I think I’d get a long with myself. My taste has stayed the same for the most part, except probably in music – having gone from pop to rap to techno to rock. Maybe if there was a 32 year old farid present, he could talk of my latest muse and speak of the horrific burdens my future holds. Grandpa farid would also be amusing, finally at peace and probably bitching about the noise level and bragging about his glorious past. Of course I’m not thinking of the repercussions on the space-time continuum. With this kind of power I could alter the universe – butterfly, flap your wings.