I have an account on a 3D-avatar site called IMVU.
In the past it's been a great source of entertainment and friendship, but more and more it's become a place of disappointment and heartache.
For some reason, of all the thousands of chat rooms I could be hanging out in, a virtual dance club with bunch of regulars that are socially-maladjusted nerds seems to be the place I feel most comfortable calling home.
Most of the people on there are broken in some way or other, much like in most online communities.
And almost without fail, every single time I care enough about someone to actually consider them a real friend, they disappear.
I seem to combine the best of video games and anime with all the fun of a therapist and friend... Talk to an ultra-hot neko cat girl in a see-through kimono, or a winged pixie in chain mail, and she'll not only entertain you in a variety of ways, but be an irreverent flirt, an ego booster, a conscientious listener, a shoulder to cry on, and solve all your problems lickety split.
It's like I give the magical gift of being able to function in the real world without the need for virtual anything anymore.
Except who do I get to talk to when they're all fixed and go away?
1 comment:
You could be a bartender and do this in real life too. I had a bartending job of sorts, working the gaming mecca of Magic tournaments...running it meant that any of the players (or other customers) would come up and chat. Their work, the trials of being a gaming person (some socially adaptable, some learning to adapt, some never learning), and the parts of my life I shared with them. It was one of those things where I would share 2-3 hours of their day, with a glimpse of the rest. With that 'bar' closed, seeing them again is a rare and unique experience...except that we've both moved on in different ways, and the memories of who we were, left in the dustbins of time.
Can you tell I just came back from a slow Halloween party? :)
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