If I could imagine being anyone with this voice, I would try on identities like shoes and prance around in them in front of a mirror. Or strut, maybe. Or slink. The point is, there would be a lot of options, which would result in a great deal of stylized walking, but I would probably end up being myself again, when everything else had been tried on and rejected. In the end, that old cliché about how there is no one quite like anyone else is probably true; there is probably some reason why being an exact copy of another human would look funny on me, like high-waisted skinny jeans would look funny on me.
I suppose that could be depressing — to think that with a choice of any identity in the world we might all just sidle back to our own — but maybe it’s nice. Maybe it’s good to think that physics has settled it and we exist as we are due to the many collisions and misses of atoms, still beyond our precise comprehension.