You're just as boring as everyone else

A not too kind individual had the audacity to assert--to my face no less--that life is boring and that for all the pomp and circumstance in my own, I hold no great distinction from the masses at large, that my great life, quantized, is not truly exorbitant. He tried to make the argument that if I lived a thousand lives, on average, because of my rather humble origins, my life would likely hold no distinction and all the allure of my current one is just a matter of haphazardly catching that rarest of treasures, a brief, but stunning smile from she that bestows them best.

You, sir, although you may not deserve the title of a genteel soul, are, as very nearly everyone who disagrees with me is, wrong. I can't possibly be expected to explain in substantial detail why but I know it, as sure as I know anything else: its ingrained in the very fabric of the universe. The truth, sir, is that for you and your supposed misfortunes there are not the infinitely many worlds some would have us believe. There's not some other world out there where everything's gonna be okay. There's just this one, just this rock. So all of these other worlds that might come into being, won't. Only one has, and only one will and that is the same as destiny, and just because you are completely unsure of what that one world will be does not mean that you should exclude the possibility that an, in your own words, exorbitant quantity, is not.

Truly, I weep for you and your lack of imagination. There are kings and queens of this mortal life and discovering in yourself that you are not one is no reason to doubt it, but just evidence of--accurately, I think--low self esteem.