What’s the meaning of life? Well, isn’t that a tricky thought to consider, but, when we consider our thoughts on what life means to us, and when we compare our lives to others, particularly when we’re dealing with difficult things, sometimes we have some answers. Eventually writing “The Story,” where “Novel 01” and “Novel 02” are but small fragments of that greater whole, is my “meaning” and it propels me through the darkness of failed American Dreamers.
Spoilers?: Minor [meandering through life]
What are lurkers? The etymological origins implies someone that sneaks, but for me, when I first was made aware of that term as it applies to watching livestreams, I couldn’t understand it – as I can’t understand many ideas in life. I can’t understand the cruelties of others in many regards not out of my own ignorance but out of lacking the ability to comprehend why people would act in those brutal ways. I’ve operated for years in complete solitude. There may have been thousands or millions of lurkers all throughout Better Zombie’s history from August 2016 to January 2021 and beyond, but I haven’t had any active participants along that journey.
Things are picking up now that I’m livestreaming.
I’m using a platform that I enjoy to share myself and my fictional universe with others. I’ve been naming things after the people that participate like serfins or influence the space in certain regards like cracky because while a majority of the space and its foundation is rooted in that sort of imaginary reality where nonfiction meets fiction, some of it is open to interpretation. There’s plenty of space that can be allocated to others, like a lake or a mountain. I could randomly generate the names, ponder their meanings deeply, or, see who’s around and see who wants to have something named after them.
I do that because of how miserable I was when I was chasing the American Dream.
There was a point about ten years ago where I found myself as the most unhappy I had ever been. I said, during the stream, that it was about ten years ago, but now that I’m here in this writing thought space, where I can edit and consider my thoughts, I can say with some truth that yes, it was ten years ago. I had it all from the American Dream perspective, yet, as I stared out into the void of nothingness that I had acquired, I had nothing. I was given this dream of having “it all” and yet there was nothing. Once I realized the American Dream was dead, and chased after my own dream, I acquired so much more.
Sure, what I have now is kind of dumb, but it’s my kind of dumb.
People that are cruel might be still chasing after that American Dream lie.
So they act cruelly toward me regarding my healthcare – telling me they’ll call me back, leaving passive-aggressive voicemails where they’re acting unprofessional, or delaying processes because they can use their power to manipulate me, to name a few of the things that have happened today and this week – and that affects me. What I do, and what I plan to do going forward, is use this Minecraft map as a space to channel that negative energy into something more positive. Whether people are actively participating while I’m livestreaming, passively watching while I’m live, or watching years later, by being around this dream of mine, you influence it.
They, those who might watch out of curiosity but aren’t quite drawn in due to myriad factors, passively influence the flow of the conversation. When I was livestreaming to an audience of zero, I could feel more comfortable talking honestly about my healthcare woes. After Stock said hello and then lurked, I jammed on the ideas I had previously built on, almost as a sort of improvisational word jazz, to consider all of these thoughts as they relate to the greater whole. I found myself at the ridge of the cliff just outside of the Greater Eville Medical Zone [GEMZ], I placed two blocks and considered this analogy.
Green for Zombiepaperians and red for American Dreamers.
For years, I had tried to fit myself in the red box of being an American Dreamer, unsatisfied with life, and wishing for more. I was a green box trying to fit in. It’s like my Discord motto: I’m a square man fitting into a circular world. For every website that allows you to upload an avatar, almost all crop that avatar into a circle for you, so, for me, my avatar is forced into a circle. That shouldn’t be that way, but that’s a subtle example of how we’re forced into little boxes [or circles] without even knowing it.
When we break out of those boxes, we get push back.
The healthcare people that have pushed back on me this past week have probably felt threatened by me as someone that has accessibility needs. They only operate under the guise of calling me, yet, me taking a 15-minute medical call destroys my spine because I must carefully listen to every word. A word misunderstood could mean failure for me. One company seems to refuse to communicate via anything but phone calls, and my current rep was actively rude toward me when I reached out asking for any alternatives. This person, Gideon – the real name – is the living embodiment of an American Dreamer that has become bitter through the process of drowning in the materialistic debts associated with the American Dream. He cannot fathom a system outside of himself, and so, he lashes out as much as he can. How do I know this about Gideon? I was once like Gideon. I am not a perfect human being and am prone to my many follies. However, I won’t be like Gideon or other American Dreamers.
I follow my own dreams.
|Sources: The Story’s Imaginarium.|
|Inspirations: Jamming on ideas from the livestream.|
|Related: Essays helping build “Novel 02.” This novel is formally called “A Story About Self-Confidence: Something About Anxiety,” and is a sequel to “Novel 01,” which is part of the Sammohini Arc of “The Story.”|
|Picture: Screenshot from the video.|
|Written On: 2021 January 14 [11:29pm to midnight]|
|Last Edited: 2021 January 14 [First draft; final draft for the Internet.]|