Float Island
I'm in my bedroom,
playing Float Island on my computer.
A game where you can live a life of peace and
harmony on a mysterious island,
A world that is digital,
not real.
The neighbours greet me as usual.
They are always cheerful and happy to see me.
I tend to my animals.
Cut crops on my farm.
Expanding my island to the fullest.
An hour passes.
I can smell the sweat and dampness of old clothes
beneath my seat
as I tidy my virtual house.
I talk to my neighbours again.
They are happy and cheerful.
I wish that they knew who I really was and what I looked like.
If only they knew.
I feed my animals.
Cook my crops.
Expanding my island to the fullest.
Two hours gone.
My eyes wince at the spectrum
of virtual light.
I ignore the sun piercing through the
broken roof window,
burning my neck with hatred and warmth.
My virtual parents arrive.
They come with dialogues of affection and
graphics for gifts.
I hear my dad yell at me from downstairs,
but I ignore it.
I lock up my animals.
Eat my crops.
Expanding my island to the fullest.
My dry lips breath in the molecules of air.
Oxygen.
One of my neighbours asked to go out with me.
He is excited to see me.
He thinks that I am the happiest person he knows.
The window opposite me releases a breeze.
It's temptingly pulling me,
as if I could fly.
I hear crashes and shouting downstairs,
but I feel nothing. No pain or regret.
I kill my animals.
I needed food.
I was running low on crops anyway.
My character fuels up with energy as
I continue to sink from lack of nourishment.
Three hours pass.
A game that is virtual.
Real.
I grow more crops.
Expanding my island to the fullest.
I regret what I did
and now I feel pain.
My neighbours are shocked at the killing,
but they are not angry.
God,
how I wish they were angry.
They have no consciousness of their world.
Their loop.
They are stuck in a cruel,
everlasting cycle.
That makes me scared.
I know however,
that this joyful world is controlled by one person.
Only one person.
My island has fully expanded.
My potential completed.
I hear footsteps coming upstairs.
My door unlocks.
I breathe in.
I know who the controlling person is.
It's me.
But I feel no fear,
no regret,
Because I have control.
Besides,
this isn't real,
is it?
