You know, for me this all started out as a story. A work of fiction.
An escape, if you will, taken in a direction inspired by media.
A classic tale of self-insertion...a "Gary Stu"...set in a "perfect" world with issues fit for the likes of the protagonists.
It's funny to me now; I used to take it so seriously.
The characters...they kinda' developed minds of their own. I began to see them as outside of myself. I even started to look for them outside myself. Yes, in real-life.
It's all fun and games until you convince only a couple that perhaps you're right. Is this an rp taken too far? But no one's role-playing as much as they're role-finding.
It gets better when things kinda' turn out how they do in the book. They aren't perfect matches, but enough to make it seem true to yourself. A little scary, honestly. Coincidence? Certainly. But oddly convenient (or rather, inconvenient).
It's in the past now. But I still write. I still write that same story (and it's far from completion). There are more characters, and more "truths" to be seen. But I don't take it seriously anymore. At least, not in that manner.
But curiously strikes. I have these day-dreams. My own "little" world as a strange prophecy. Within this future lies certain politics, certain "divisions" of characters...and more personally, certain friends, and certain partners.
Yet only reality is "real". I'm not disappointed. The book's not particularly all rainbows and butterflies. One side of me says that I've taken too far.
The other...says I haven't taken it far enough.
As I write and plan, my world matures...and so do my philosophies and my beliefs and theories. It is the extension of myself, and in many ways I'm still in it and of it.
I could be ashamed that the ones I know the best are my characters. While some could find some merit in that, it could be strange that I find comfort in that. In body I am indeed in touch with reality as I need to be, but in "spirit", I suppose, I am of my own world. A guilty pleasure. But a stimulating one.
Someday, someone will join me. It would be our little "in-joke". Our shared lens. Our shared perception. Until then, like a mad scientist I labor in secret hoping to create something "so crazy that it just might work". There's no doubt that I'm a bit looney.
But can I justify it?
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