I led a life today

It was a very disorienting experience, I can tell you that. It was the first time I cried in .. months, at least. As far as I can remember that little bout of sadness did not last very long and was not particularily releasing either. This was different. This was full of release, full of a sort of care-free sadness. Care-free because it was not sadness over something real, it was something .. literary.

I led a life. It was all in a computer game simulation of course, but it was still a life. I once argued the idea that dreams are just important as lives, from the inside. You could compare that thought to the movie "The Matrix" but I really urge you not to. That movie was not even concieved of when I thought this and the ideas are not really connected on any other plane than the encapsulation of experiences.

The idea was that a dream and a life are both all-encompassing and self-sufficient. While you are having a dream that is not "vivid", you do not know that it is a dream and the dream becomes all you know, even all you have ever known. Sometimes when you dream you might even consider it real and your life a past dream. Either way: so since dreams are complete from the inside, and so is reality, what is to say that one is more important than the other?

This was no dream though, this was just a "computer game" of sorts. The game is called Alter Ego and it's just text, multiple-choice questions and a few icons. You start out in the womb, you are born, you experience growing up, you get a job, you marry a woman, you have children, you grow older, you grow weaker, you die. That, in short, is the topic of the game. The details .. well, I've entertained myself by describing the intricate details of the life I led in that game a few times now and maybe I should repeat one of those instead of starting it all over. Here:

My name was not important.

As a small child I was inquisitive, quiet and happy albeit slightly weakly, catching every cold that came along. I remember taking my first few steps when my parents weren't there, steadying myself against the bars around by crib. I remember the family dog licking my face and I licked him back.

As I grew up, I was a booky kid but I was also popular even though I might not have been very social. I fooled around with girlfriends now and then, but I only had a few dates throughout my adolescense. At my second job as as assistant at a law firm I met Gigi and we started dating. It's funny, too.. one of the very first things she wanted to talk to me about was .. getting married. She got pregnant before we even were able to make the arrangements and we named him Peter, sort of after me.

I can't remember all the people who were my friends. I know they were my friends because they came to me with their questions about life, and I know I could always give them an answer. Maybe I wasn't so outspoken, but I was frank, I was proud and I could always calmly analyse a problem.

It seems as though I didn't really play until it was too late. I did record my will, but I never got to say goodbye to Gigi and Peter and now it's too late, too dark. At least I didn't grow old, sickly and waste away. At least I died catching that softball out on the field.

And to think I hated sports.

As you can see, the experience is quite genuine. The feelings of loss as the "adventure" is over are true. It might sound pathetic, but I cried and I'm proud. It felt damn good, and it gave me a good, healthy perspective on life. I heartily recommend it.

/ Per