There exists this concept of a Multiverse. 
It changes depending upon the exact theory you take, butthey all seem to have their similarities.
I imagine looking at a map online. Say, Google Maps orMapquest. Now, you're staring at this map. Maybe, you're enjoying a look atlocal streets and cul-de-sacs. Perhaps, you're taking a virtual tour of quaintneighborhoods and corner businesses. As you move this way and that, you havethe option of zooming. Let's say you choose to zoom out. You zoom out. With eachdegree, these small side streets shrink and fade. At first, they are arteries.Then, mere veins. Then, they constrict to an almost imperceptible tangle ofcapillaries. 
Then, they blink out from existence altogether. As you go, othermore prominent features move before your eyes, only, to fade and disappearentirely. 
Interstates and monuments and parks and zip codes andcounties—all, without fail, are reduced. In the end, what was once vast nolonger warrants a visual rendering.
Everything is so small, not even a blip on the radar.
It may seem that all these features—the side streets andwatering holes and courts and suburban developments—are insignificant. 
But they're not. 
They're immensely significant. Individually, they representsomething of personal and communal importance. They are people's backyards,favorite routes, favorite parks, favorite restaurants and bike shops andbakeries and places to get cold snowballs after a day of running in the sun. 
And collectively, these miniscule points on the map are the map. They are the buildingblocks, the atoms—the most basic structure that makes it all possible. They maydisappear when the whole picture has been drawn, but they are there.
Things unseen are worth more than meets the eye. 
See, I envision the Multiverse as something akin to this. Itis infinite, with endless parallel dimensions, endless hypotheticals playedout, simultaneously, somewhere. Every part is significant. 
In one reality of the Multiverse, I chose to stop typing N 
But in this reality, I continue to type. In another realityof the Multiverse, I dropped out of high school. In one, I put all my effortinto finding the most attractive girlfriend ever. Some of my alternaterealities have already ended—perhaps cut short by an accident, or disease, ormurder, or suicide.
What if we tap into the Multiverse? What if, we are notdetached from these alternate realities existing alongside our own, but, infact, experience them, unknowingly?
What if it's all one big crazy network. The Multiverse couldbe like the human brain. It could be unfathomably intricate, with chemicals andelectrical signals firing every which way, as if every Fourth of July fireworkcelebration was incorporated into one dazzling show.
Imagine... we are connected by our collective unconscious. Ourbrains in these infinite alternate realities speak to one another. We don'teven know it. Ideas we have, thoughts and emotions... when we tend to dip intoa certain state or sickness or pain, without knowing exactly why... 
Perhaps, a reality has ended somewhere else, or somethingtragic has happened... Maybe the Multiverse functions like synapses, and thesesensations are fired across the network, across the synaptic gap, hitting allof us.
Certain human beings are born with certain abilities. Somecan sense the infinite versions of themselves better than others. Some are tornto pieces by it, not knowing from where their great internal distress stems,but nonetheless melting under its effects. Psychosis? Synesthesia? All kinds ofdisorders and maladies and exceptional abilities... 
What this all seems to mean, of course, is that there is no"you" and "I."
Perhaps, when we dream we are, in fact, seeing snippets ofthese alternate realities. We are experiencing what has happened or what ishappening in another dimension. Perhaps, when dreaming, we temporarily subsumeone if not some if not all, simultaneously, of our infinitive alter selves. 
But what about when we die? Do we really die? Or do wesimply snap to another reality, and the transition is seamless, and we have norecollection of having ended, aside from the collective cognitions thatmanifest from time to time? 
Maybe the Multiverse is like a big server. With a shit ton of data. Theinfinity of it all baffles us, but then again, it should. Because we are but humans, mere pieces in the crazy schemeof the world. We are not intended to know things. We are merely meant toexperience.