3. Talking with my clone

Summary

The text describes a contemplative conversation between the author and their clone, exploring themes of identity, existence, and the nature of life and death.

Abstract

In "Talking with my clone," the author engages in a profound dialogue with their clone, reflecting on the similarities and differences between them. The clone appreciates the author's daily wanderings, likening them to a series of unanswered questions. Despite the author's insistence on their distinctiveness, they acknowledge a shared fragmentation with their clone. The narrative suggests that life's questions lead to more questions, and the road of existence inevitably ends. The clone's eventual merging with the author is depicted as an inevitable union, akin to the transformation of thunderclouds into water, symbolizing a return to a unified state. The text concludes with the notion that in reality, clones coexist within individuals, contrasting with the resolved narratives of fiction.

Opinions

The author views their daily life as a series of questions without definitive answers, suggesting a philosophical outlook on existence.
The clone is portrayed as both separate from and a part of the author, highlighting a duality in self-perception.
The author seems to accept the inevitability of the clone merging with them, despite the initial assertion of their differences.
The text implies a critique of conventional storytelling, where characters like clones find resolution, by stating that in reality, such resolutions do not occur.
The author uses the metaphor of thunderclouds turning into water to illustrate the transformative and cyclical nature of life and identity.

LITERARY IMPULSE DAY 3PROMPT: CLONE

My clone is before me. Stranded. Like me. And we talk. About our lives and deaths. And questions and answers. And there is no end to it.

He says he likes how I wander each day like a question mark. The question has no answers. Only questions. Each day a question. Each day a walk, through the roads that end. A road has to end somewhere, he says.

And I tell him, my clone, that we are not one. We are different and I cannot stress it enough. He jumps on my heart, then. He jumps and jumps.

I let him do it. Because I know even if he is not me, and I am not him, we are the same. Fragmented. Like all others. And thunderclouds still roar. Outside. Waiting for my clone to merge into me, so they can stop gurgling, and go back to being water.

My clone will then merge. Inside me. And perhaps I will wander around, with him inside me, and wander and wander. But, I’ll still not complete, as they do, in movies and books.

In real life, clones live inside clones. And that’s there is to it.

Call me a mask — which is another way of saying, do not comment on my clone inside me.

Prompt used: Clone by @shabdaaweg #napowrimoshabdaaweg

Nachi Keta