Now, of course, I'm going to write some infernal bullshit, but let's face it—you don't come to Tumblr to read proper and boring adult moralizing. You come to Tumblr to read infernal bullshit.
Once, as a kid, I came up with a theory that literally all books and movies, all narrative art, tell stories about certain events in parallel universes. And that some people are more sensitive, more attuned to other versions of themselves from parallel worlds, and can partially remember their lives. All art is created on the basis of these distant memories.
As if there are worlds similar to those described in "The Lord of the Rings", the lore of "D&D", "Warhammer" and the "World of Darkness", "Star Wars", and so on. In my mind, each character is a real person existing in that alternate world. So, if my fantasies are true, there's a non-zero chance that you, yes, you, somewhere in another universe are Sailor Moon, Dagoth Ur, or Gollum. No, well, Dagoth Ur is unlikely to have hanging out on Tumblr, but Gollum might.
I realize this is just the childish delusions of a kid who felt at an early age that he'd never fit into reality, but... I want to believe that somewhere out there, far, far away, there's another me, who's doing well. Who lives where he belongs and does what he loves. Maybe one day I'll meet myself in a book or a game.
I have a few candidates in mind, but they're all either gloomy and not cheerful enough, or cheerful and not gloomy enough. And those who are both cheerful and gloomy are way too much of an extrovert-terrorist type. Although who knows, maybe in a parallel world I would have been born in a body with a different temperament and would have turned out a choleric-sanguine type instead of a melancholic-phlegmatic one, like here?
The whole world is like a third Baldur's Gate, and in it I'm a somnolent rat. I mean, it's not like I'm my avatar, obviously. I'm too damaged and too brain-deficient to be That Dude.
