vivi ramble

Real life sure is a lot more different from a video game than I thought it would be.

I mean, I should have guessed it, right? But art imitates life, and vice versa. I thought it would be easy, with the script of the game guiding me into the basics of human behavior. And to an extent, it did. I knew the language inside and out, could read and write and speak eloquently. I learned basic concepts like love and friendships, and even of harsher things like greed and hatred and jealousy. It was the little things that were harder to grasp.

Like, did you know that you can't just walk into people's houses? My heart told me that if I did so, I would gain important insight on how to move forward, and that if I found anything, it was obviously because I was meant to take it. If I couldn't, it wouldn't be there. I learned better when an entire family screamed at me as I rustled through their boxes, chasing me out onto the street. Sure, people weren't always the kindest to the characters in the game, but that was them, not me, right? Guess not. I learned privacy the hard way.

I soon started feeling just like the protagonist of my source game. He was an oddball, an outcast who didn't understand the way the world was moving. People looked at him strangely, dismissed him. Sometimes they insulted him. Just like they were now doing to me.

But, like him, I still hold on to hope that I can make things better. Even if I don't always fit in, even if others try to crush my spirit, make me feel small and useless. I'll be like him and be brave, be a little light in the darkness and always move forward, no matter how hard it gets. I know I can do it.

And when I do, I'll come back home. I can't wait to see you again. And I hope you'll love the new me as much as I've always loved you.