You are unique.

And there are seven billion others, just as unique as you.

Each of us is different, with some new angle on the world.

But what does it mean if the lives we're busy shaping by hand,

all end up looking the same?

Easily replaced by a thousand identical others?

VEMÖDALEN

So we all spread out,

looking for scraps of frontier,

trying to capture something special,

something personal.

As if we're afraid of being captured ourselves.

So quickly pegged for exactly what we are, so easily mistaken for someone ordinary, just like everyone else.

It should be a comfort that we're not so different.

That our perspectives so neatly align, that these same images keep showing up, again and again.

It's alright if we tell the same jokes we've all heard before.

It's alright if we keep remaking the same movies.

It's alright if we keep saying the same phrases to each other,

as if they had never been said before.

"The powerful play goes on,"

"and you will contribute a verse."

And you and I and seven billion others will leave our mark on this world we've inherited.

But if, in the end, we find ourselves with nothing left to say,

nothing new to add,

Idly tracing outlines left by others long ago, it will be as if we weren't here at all.

This, too, has been said many times before.

The powerful play goes on.

And when you get your cue,

you say your line.