What makes you look for refuge in another world? For some people it’s drugs. Others alcohol. Others art. Others gambling. So many escapes. I admit along my life I took a few of those, actually all of those except gambling. I was never attracted to it. At one point in my life I drank a lot. And then I made it stop, just like that. The reason for my success was I was never a true alcoholic. My metabolism was not addicted. I had zero physical dependence on liquor.
Drugs? Don’t get me started on those. When you are young and stupid, you do some crazy shit. Let me tell you about gateway drugs. Mine was Hashish. Pure bricks, warmed up, cut to measure, mixed with cigarette tobacco. Mixed joint. It works until it doesn’t. When you ditch the tobacco and go pure, and it does nothing for you. That’s when you start looking around for something else with that cutting edge you no longer have. So, sure. Let’s try that. And that. I was never into syringes, they put me off. So pills. And powder.
I was fucking lucky when someone, somewhere, had the great idea of snorting Chinese lines. No, not cocaine. Heroine. I took one hit. Looked at an opened window. And jumped through it. A few hours later I was told what had happened. I was like… Nope. Done. And that was it. That and the fact a friend died like a dog outside a building entrance, downtown, sitting on its steps, alone. Overdose.
By the way, that window, it just happened to be on the ground floor, but if we were 50 floors up, same difference. I would have jumped to my death.
I know about escaping. Been there, done that. But it was always an elusive experience, something out of my control. And I was still myself, only drunk, or high, but still me. I craved for seriously more extreme ways to get out. Out of myself. But the answer wasn’t that. Not out. In. I had to get into myself in ways I never experienced before. And be fully conscious while doing it. Totally in control.
At the time I found what I was looking for, I wouldn’t describe it like that. The accurate description of what I was looking for derived from having found it. Exactly it. And diving into it, head first, no fear. It happened by chance. Total serendipity. I was told of its existence by a blogger friend, back in 2006. So I went and checked it out. The name was a sign I was about to find another home: Second Life.
A virtual world where you can be literally anyone or anything you wish. Back in 2006 it was still very rudimentary, but nearly 20 years after it’s creation, it is a fantastic universe. I got out in 2021, I think? Not sure. It’s not important. The fact remains I left, because I don’t need the escape anymore. And without the escaping component, Second Life lost its meaning to me. I am sure others see it differently, as a place to meet friends who live on other parts of the world, and what not. There were even MS Society meetings there, and many other events that extend real life and enhance it, rather than avoid it.
I made good friends there, up to and including my wife. That’s where we first met. In a virtual Paris, at the top of a virtual Tour Eiffel. She still maintains friendships there, with people that were important to us both, and that like us, when we met, live far away. One in the UK, one in Belgium. One right here, in New Mexico, US of A. And there are others, with whom I did not interact in real life. It’s a fine place to engage as if you were in the presence of those others. And it’s really cool, when you know who you are with is a real life person you do know through other means of normal communication, like Skype, or telephone. But I was not really into that.
When I was active in that universe, I was another self. And the easiest way to push me away, was tell me who you really were, in real life, and thus break the spell. The experience with my wife was transcendental. A one of a kind. The real life friends we have in common are a result of our relationship going beyond that virtual world, into the real one. I met my wife in person first, spent time with her, then went back home and later returned to stay. We still hung out in our virtual home for a few years, but without the escape component being needed, and having her in real life, the interest was not much. We did achieve some pretty great accomplishments, during that time. But the magic of the place itself was broken.
Rewind. First day in. Decisions, decisions. Who shall I become? My inner child. Done. And to me, my child was always a girl. Always. So done deal. I became a woman. And it was like being born again as one. If you know anything about me, you know I am a detail freak. So instead of getting a standard off the rack body and face shapes, I made my own. And in a world of seven feet tall oxygenated blondes, I became a 5’ 6”, black hair, Japanese beauty with pure white marble skin, and tattoos I never again removed. And I never changed. I was… Another me. The child in me, materialized. And that world was my oyster.
The subsequent blog pages in this special section of the blog, are out of body experiences, real memories of real events I lived, just as if I were living them in the real world. Only with another real me. And in another real world.
Welcome to Oakie’s other life.
To be Continued...
[finis]
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