Another You

Imagine if a couple of crazy bio-engineers knocked on your door one morning and presented you with an almost identical clone of yourself. It looked like you, walked, talked and acted in the exact same way as you do; it had the same scars and wrinkles, the same weight and fitness levels, the same dreams and ambitions… the exact same potential…

The only difference, they said, between this new you and the older model you inhabit is that when the recent arrival set its mind on a task, whether great or small, it was able to apply tireless dedication to the job of completing that task.

Rather than sitting on the couch, eating comfort cream cakes because you broke your healthy-eating pledge within 12 hours, after succumbing to the understandable temptation of a milk chocolate Hob Nob, then decided you were a complete failure at everything and always had been, the driven you – having lapsed for an almost identical, tasty biscuit - would be out on a brisk walk, taking the opportunity not even to start again, but to continue, recognising that a biscuit does not herald personal Armageddon, and that a few extra minutes of stomping the streets will soon burn off the calorific content of the sneaky snack.

And while you’re glaring at the computer monitor - obsessed with levelling up your Norwegian Forest Cat character on World of Hello Kitty Craft - your facsimile is getting on with the creative projects that you could, without all the procrastination, have finished literally years ago. They’ve just written ‘The End’ on that first novel you’d given up pretending to yourself you’d ever finish, and it only took them weeks of disciplined work to get it done, at last.

Your clone decided to give up the bad habits you shared. It made the choice and just did it – no whining and no looking back. It breathes fresh air, eats mostly healthy, nutritious food, takes regular exercise. If it goes out on a social whirl, it drinks responsibly and arrives home conscious, able to make it out of bed with ease at dawn the next day, while you’re still groaning and kicking yourself at Sunset, nursing a hangover so severe that you become convinced that an Eastern European government agent must have spiked you with some cruel and agonising poison that was leading you through to a lingering, miserable death.

With the money it saved on cutting out all the unnecessary and impulse purchases (of diet drinks, chocolate bars, tobacco, wine, etc.) even its bank balance was looking healthy.

Without doubt, even though the two of you were on exactly the same footing, with the very same potential, before the experiment began, you can guarantee that ten years down the line (and barring the occurrence of an unfortunate accident or ailment), the clone is going to find itself in a much more comfortable position in life, compared to the apathetic, unmotivated, self-defeating Mark I who blew that same decade on hope and good intentions.

And ten years later, to the day, those mysterious men come back to check on their experiment. The clone has done so well, won awards and even become something of a minor celebrity, so the scientist can’t even take it back to the lab for the thorough autopsy they were so excited about performing.

You look at this other you and realise it doesn’t look like you any more. It looks like how you wished you looked. It has achieved things you wish you had achieved, been places you’d always hoped to go but never actually made it to…

And then the bio-wizards reveal the awful truth…

… that there was never any difference between you and your double. You were perfect copies and all along, you were always just as capable of invoking the same determination that would have allowed you, too, to live your life to the same fullness.

(P.S. If you've enjoyed this and have the will and ability to contribute to my ‘fighting fund’…  donations would be most welcome through PayPal, at ‘Lesism@btinternet.com’. Anything would be greatly appreciated!)