I have a thought now and I must say – or type it out, like now. If not things changes. Beliefs get corrupted. Thoughts get muddled. And soon, instead of saying “I met someone online through a web-based game and through him my faith in humanity is restored”, I would say something like “I hate life”, all as soon as tomorrow. So thoughts have to go fresh when they are yet unbiased and pure.
If there’s such thing as a pure thought.
So, there, I “met” someone through an online web-based game. It is the kind of game where you add friends so you can get more daily gifts, that kind of thing. Good ploy from the developers part, I say. Naturally like many serious players, I get foreign “friends” from the same game for those good stuffs from daily gifts and the upper hand in game. I know I shouldn’t be doing that, but. Well.
He’s like only four time zones away from me, and like six years younger than I am. Shocker, I know right? For my age, I mean. I thought only 20 year old University students play games like that, but that’s because you only see you around. Peoples are self-centred bastards and I am such a cynic. It didn’t quite occur to me that teenagers play the same game as I do, and when I knew his age, I sometimes get carried away and forget that’s he’s a kid. Funny. I always thought I was still 16.
The thing that strikes me as terribly obvious was how… childish… he seems to be. If childish is a right word at all. He says lots of things to strangers (ie. me). Asked me kinda touchy-kind of senstive things. Seems a tad sensitive for a guy. And the things he told me, the one thing he did (of which is the first rule you get when you create an account in the Internet), a person with the right intentions could have done something bad. It was shocking to see how he was so trusting and open in an internet chat. But then did I not in the past? Say stuffs in forums, never worried about nothing.
I write stories, and I write dark, dark plots and characters with subtle sociopathic tendencies. I might have some of those, seeing as I am the writer. Sometimes my characters influenced me in ways I could never begin to fathom. When I grow older (yes, I do grow older, one does has to admit that), even as I lament over my dwindling faith in humanity, upon the hopelessness I feel in the throes of capitalism and sufficiently democratic Nazism, and under the violent stream of purely primal instincts that control the general mob… I began to change. I try to adapt, like all humans do, because if I can’t adapt, I’m going to be left behind. If I don’t change myself, to fit myself firmly into the increasingly tinier gaps of survivals quota, I might be the next Thomas Chatterton. (Well, that wasn’t a good analogy, but that poor boy (very possibly) killed himself under the pressure from the mob mind of humanity.)
I laughed bitterly when I read about the poor boy. If the 18th century has social media, he might have been shamed across six out of seven continents by peoples of all age before killing himself. Or maybe he would have been saved by the portion of social media that still has some restraints in how they react to stuffs.
That guy I met was one of the more open peoples I have met since forever. Since… probably never, not counting my family and the closest friends. You know what best friends confide to you and only you? Things that you can’t say to others. Things that you are expected to listen, care and give support on. Yes. He confided to me things through chat. Asked me for help. Asked me of my opinions, though to be frank, I am a sucker where relationship is concerned.
Maybe I was over cynical or over sceptical, whatever the term is supposed to be. What if I decided to flip out, do a Face-Heel Turn on him! What if he met someone really, really bad who decided to do something worse? What if… What if…
Do you smell the whiff of insanity from me? I might be, but I gain consolation from the fact that true nuts never admit they are nuts. So yes, I might have lost some of me marbles. One at a time. Over the years. Over the months of brutal harshness of the University fauna. I am in my third year in University, and I feel that. My sister is in her first year and she said she’s tired, so maybe I was a bit slower.
It was only today when I realised enough to look at this whole thing with the other eye that must have been a few years younger than my true age. No, perhaps it wasn’t the problem that he was too open, unguarded and innocent in social media. Perhaps I view it as such because I am growing a dangerous host of thoughts of myself that has begun to poison my mind. Perhaps I have went overboard in being cautious, cynical and sceptical from a number of “close-calls” I have had. None of the close-calls were any threatening, but I had been terrified, and fear and pain has such effect on a person that it drives one hostile. Just like an injured animal.
I don’t know if I will be chatting to him in the future. I kinda enjoyed the chat we had, even though I have had those disturbing notions and dreadful suspicions. He seemed like a good enough guy, one who has an amazing career in mind, and not like me who is already in her mid-life crisis. And I hoped I could get to keep in touch with him, to see how to grew up to be, and how then I grew up to be, if he did achieve his dream and if I managed mine.
But that was a sixteen year old guy who had somehow made me feel a little better, if not worse. He showed me that the world is not without those little good, however corrupted it is where I am blind and deaf to. He reminded me of my childhood innocence and what I seem to keep losing sight of nowadays, sullied by jealousy, grief and anger. And heavy doses of fear.
If I never knew the World is a Dangerous Place to Be. If only. But if that was the case I wouldn’t have survived. Fear makes companion of us all.
Footnote: That last sentence. Fear makes companion of us all. By Clara Oswald from Doctor Who Series 8. I get excited at coincidences, and this is indeed a coincidence. Guy’s last name online is a variant of Oswald!