"I'm jealous."
"Jealous of whom?"
"The me from another universe."
"From another universe?"
"He must be living the dreams I couldn't. He must be smiling genuine smiles, laughing genuine laughrers. In his prime, I'm certain he made mom and pops cry tears of joy and made them proud to have a son like him. He must've true genuine friends around him. He must be a very kind person and people respect and trusts him dearly. He is loved. He must have won so many wars no one could. His name must have been written along the many names who are important. He must be happy, genuinely happy."
"How did he get there, mind telling me from this imaginary universe of yours."
"He conspired with his universe. He must've prayed and the universe gladly answered. That's is why he's living the dream."
"His hands may not be as clean as you thought they are."
"Of course not. The callouses he bears are his own marks of himself winning. I know for certain he might not be as honest as people around him supposed but that is him."
"Is he a good person though?"
"I don't know. I, for one, am certain I'm nit a good person."
"Then pray tell me how your imagination works and you got jealous of him?"
"His living the dream I can't."
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