For no particularly good reason, I'm eating celery for breakfast this morning. Except that perhaps some deep need in me was stirred last night and again this morning to take back control of my life -- to come back to the helm and steer myself away from oblivion and back into the center of the glimmering sea which once rose about me in undulating waves.
She's a twig really. But at the tender age of nine, she already knows the power of appearances in this world.
Oh, I've tried it all -- soup only diets, running till my knees collapsed -- hell, I even own a set of electronic food scales that measures item weights down to the gram. And I use it. Every day.
Control nut? Perhaps.
I think that's why we like Second Life. In Real Life, we often wait on the deck of the boat while others steer the ship. They stand at the helm like immobile boulders, taking with them all our control... steering the journey as we wait for a turn at the wheel which may never come. Here, within the pixel realm, we are captain of our ship.
Move furniture? Yes! I can! Change clothes in public without taking off the previous outfit? You bet! Fly? Of course!
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| I was hoping to find celery to munch, but at least the garden tools were a distraction... |
For no particularly good reason, I'm eating celery for breakfast this morning. Except that perhaps some deep need in me was stirred last night and again this morning to take back control of my life -- to come back to the helm and steer myself away from oblivion and back into the center of the glimmering sea which once rose about me in undulating waves.
My daughter came to me last night, and pressed the pads of her small fingers against the underside of her arm and said, "I have grandma flaps." And she frowned.
She's a twig really. But at the tender age of nine, she already knows the power of appearances in this world.
When I look in the mirror, I'm usually content, save for my c-ankles. Yes, c-ankles. You know... where your calves and ankles have no defining separation? Oh, for the slender ankles of Victorian times, framed by the embroidered hem of an ivory petticoat above a small, buttoned boot.
Oh, I've tried it all -- soup only diets, running till my knees collapsed -- hell, I even own a set of electronic food scales that measures item weights down to the gram. And I use it. Every day.
Control nut? Perhaps.
I think that's why we like Second Life. In Real Life, we often wait on the deck of the boat while others steer the ship. They stand at the helm like immobile boulders, taking with them all our control... steering the journey as we wait for a turn at the wheel which may never come. Here, within the pixel realm, we are captain of our ship.
Not only can I make my avatar look as I want (skinny, athletic, voluptuous, fairy, dragon, wolf, you name it...) but I can shape my world. I can choose my family and my friends and my coworkers with a freedom that Real Life can never offer. And I can mute the people who annoy me. (Although, in looking at my mute list, I see that only two "names" are there -- two fountains on a Sim I frequent... listening to them disturbs my bladder.)
Move furniture? Yes! I can! Change clothes in public without taking off the previous outfit? You bet! Fly? Of course!
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| Second Life is our turn to steer the ship. Real Life doesn't always give you the helm. |
Sure... my avatar explores Second Life as a reflection of me, but that is not the only appeal. She is my ship, and my mind and heart are at the helm. The real world is often governed by circumstance and fickle Fate, and Second Life offers the chance to practice control in a way that is safe. And so perhaps the real appeal is just that. Risk with safety. In Second Life, I can fall... and fail. And in the end, these pixels are expendable. They may feel, or rather I may feel them, but they do not breathe... and a rebirth is always a possibility.
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