EPisode 8 - Storms
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Welcome back. Last week, we found out that staying still was technically an option. Maybe that seems obvious. I don’t know. Some people, though, would be inclined to think that moving forward, seizing the day, and all those sorts of things, that entire category of action was really the only way to go or way to play the game.
But then in a moment of dread, I did nothing. I did nothing but sit in a physical world of panic. And that’s when something revealed itself. Something about screaming.
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And maybe the meaning of this particular surprise is obvious. Or the general emotion behind such a thing is pretty easy to discern.
Panic, Aishi said. Not just because we might have missed a lot of clues in level 1 because we did not know all the things we could have done. And that’s not our fault. The Funhouse Hallway didn’t have instructions or a tutorial level. Just the various options we could have let ourselves travel down. We were given directions, in other words, and staying put was not one of them. So it felt like we were set up to fail. We didn’t know that we could do something. But apparently it mattered.
It must has mattered, right? Right?
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April 21st continued.
Nothing about the game had sound before. No. Wrong. Clicking, tapping. Those were things we had before. Things we could also experience with our keyboard and mouse. Maybe typing or clicking.
We thought about walking. Clicking, tapping. Walking in a hallway. Shoes against ground. Walking in a hallway with mirrors.
Funhouse Hallway. I have never been in one. But they aren’t scary are they?
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Panic, Aishi said. Like the character in the game was panicking because of the screaming. We are wired to meet the sound of screaming with our own fears It’s partially about empathy but partially a genuine survival mechanism. Because whatever is causing that screaming, whatever is attacking them or after them or frightening them, could come for us. So maybe we should start running. Running. Running.
What is the equivalent here?
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If you haven’t noticed, lately, I’ve been back on Twitter. @OracleofDusk if you were curious. But that’s still not my account. It is still an account that bears another name and character that I have maybe made my own as an accident or something of that nature. And maybe it is wrong that I have done so. Wrong, deceptive, or something in that family of words. But right now, I can’t think about that or really fight it.
Once again, just like it was with the Funhouse Hallway, there was a sense of desperation behind the move. Or desperation might be the wrong thing to call it. That might be a jerk move, considering what that word means to other people, but I’m just… I’m just adrift right now, and I don’t know what to do. I need an anchor of some sort. I need to feel some sort of connection to steady myself.
But there isn’t even a good reason behind my feelings. There is no cause to be upset. I started a new job, a job that is going to be great and pay great and is at the same company so I don’t even have to say goodbye to anyone. My duties will change. And my supervisor. And all those things. Well, that… That was not a good use of that phrase.
Change is inevitable, and this is a good one. And look, I know I should be happy. But I’ve never done well when things were changing. Change was never good in my life; that’s what I learned to believe. Because that’s how things always were when I was growing up. Changes always meant something bad.
True or not, this is something embedded into the fabric of my being, into my perspective, and into how I understand the world. Fundamental belief, I think is the technical term. If not, it gets to the point. It is a belief that you hold at a very basic and fundamental level. At the core of who you are, so even if you hate it, which I do, it is still hard to shake off.
Honestly, I don’t know if I ever will, so I just have to cope with it, right? I’m just stuck finding something to latch onto just to ride out the storm of fear and anxiety that comes from even the best transformations.
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It was never the sunk cost fallacy. The Funhouse Hallway, I mean. I don’t know if there ever could be a sunk cost with Twitter. I mean, sure you spend a lot of time on there building up your numbers, but a social media presence or alter ego as a phenomenon is much larger than Twitter. The cost can be taken elsewhere. Investment, elsewhere. Beyond the platform. But there was nothing like the Funhouse Hallway, you could say.
And I’m sure that’s true on some fronts. I’m sure that’s why some people stayed with it and worked so hard to get their answers or a sense of closure until it eventually broke them. Until they just really couldn’t put any more of themselves into it. Until they were almost broken and self-preservation had to kick in.
But it was never like that for me. I was getting a return of all my investments, even if it was not the expected one.
Consistency, I’d call it as a sort of catch all term. In the absence of a better one. Because I cannot come up with a better one.
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People came and went on The Forum. You would stumble into the Funhouse Hallway, and eventually, if you didn’t climb out, it brought you to us. You entered the Forum, and you came up with some sort of handle or username. And that’s all you were to us. That’s what we all knew you to be.
There was The Wizard, there was Aishi, and there were so many more.
Like the woman who called herself Queen Elizabeth. She partially lived or had lived not in England but in Virginia, the state named for the Tudor Virgin Queen, as the rumor goes. Her handle was so bizarre that of course she got interrogated for making it. We did have rules about no real names. Even your own name could pull in those around you into this mysterious void that they had no interest in and certainly did not opt into. And we were all inclined to think she was claiming the name as her own. And I’m sure you can see why. Elizabeth is not an uncommon name. It might never make the top ten’s, but it’s never going to disappear.
And then there was the comment about Virginia she had offered in her own defense. That she had lived there, but that now she lived nowhere. Nowhere physical, she would clarify. She travelled about for work, and work was her life. But not. Not how you might think, I mean. Like, this was not a workaholic situation, whatever that may or may not be worth. I know I have my opinions on that.
It was more than that. This was not about a paycheck or a promotion or anything given to her. This job of hers was her. Because it was about her beliefs. It was her way of finding meaning on the inside and not just getting stuff for the outside.
Cue this whole tangent about home being where you place it or where the heart is. It could never just be a physical space. That’s much too simple, and where there is simplicity, complications can easily grow. In this case, because a physical building can be taken down or made obsolete or incompatible with the other important facets of your life like work or family. And “home” as a concept itself is not rooted to the ground. It can move with you. So there must be something more to it.
Happiness, she had first offered as an explanation. It is the potential for happiness that makes a home possible. As does acceptance, safety, agency….
She kept rambling on and on, and I felt so called out by every word she said. But at the same time, why did it all sound so appealing?
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In some ways… No, that’s … No. The woman called Queen Elizabeth came onto The Forum right when I moved, actually right when I got the prompt, “You hear the screaming. You should not move.”
And that was a time when I felt vulnerable. I was more fearful of… No, no, stop.
I didn’t want to be a leader on the Forum, at the very least. Especially not then. Especially not when my only credentials… Well. it was an accident. Starting level 2. An accident. That prompt. Accent. All of it. Accidents. And there was something appealing about the acknowledgement that came from being appointed leader. But that was it. I didn’t want the responsibility. I liked that I was important and valued. But that was it. I didn’t want the responsibilities nor I couldn’t handle them.
It was all an accident. Everything I did was accidental. Intention was just beyond me. And I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
The woman who called herself queen wore the title rather well. She had a strong, almost authoritative aspect to her personality, and it came out in her postings. But she was not demanding. Or that was part of it, yes. But it wasn’t the end or the thing itself. It was just an offshoot.
The woman who called herself queen was steady. She was consistent. She could be a rock if we let her be one, and you must see why that was so appealing to me. After all, I had gone to the Forum and stayed despite all the frustrations the Funhouse Hallways hit us with because I needed a rock of some kind. It didn’t have to be a good one. I didn’t know if she was a good person, but she was steady. So why wouldn’t I want more of her in my life?
But at first, I was hesitant to let her in. Because what if she left. What if this job that she loved so, that gave her meaning, and that took her all over the world suddenly demanded that she disconnect, whether they wanted more of her time or more of her mental energy than what she could give if she stayed. What then? A loss. Another one for me. But I don’t know. I mean… She took quite the grilling when she first entered the Forum, for her username. And then for the justification. For everything. And still she didn’t immediately disconnect. People who went through so much less left sooner. So there was a chance she would stay. And I really wanted to trust her. So there were a lot of things I could have overlooked, I guess.
But then there was Aishi...
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The woman who called herself queen drew me in. And whether it be indirect questions about the Funhouse Hallway or direct questions about the nonphysical aspects of herself and her life, and me, I was drawn in. I was intrigued. And I wanted to speak to her some more, which was a break from my usual habits on the Forum in which I said hardly anything at all. Even in the position of de-facto leader, my responses were either rambling and repetitive strings of near nonsense or sparse and hardly anything at all.
I guess the woman who called herself queen was already anchoring me, and in that way, she was encroaching onto a space Aishi had occupied unchallenged for so long. And Aishi noticed.
I never did take correction well. And I’m not proud of that. But recognizing something as a character defect doesn’t make it that much easier to fix. Especially something else that was fundamental to who I became.
No one ever corrected me with care or kindness. It was just anger. Complete and utter anger. Screaming. Yelling. Everything like that. And sometimes when I look back, I can understand why or I think can. I can understand that we were in a particularly bad situation. That things were intense and dangerous. And they were responding appropriately or what they thought was appropriately. Actually they were responding as well as anyone could have expected them to. All things considered.
No, I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t dismiss what happened. They made their choices. They could have made better ones. The consequences that are theirs to claim should be left to them. And that might be hard for me to swallow, for my own sake, but the repercussions of the alternative can hurt other people. People who are hurt in the same way I am, who did not have a choice in this. You cannot dismiss wrongdoings like that. You just can’t.
The woman who called herself queen told me that. And Aishi--who had been my rock for so long--did not appreciate being replaced.
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The journal goes dead here. At least for a while. From late April to late May, but I still remember. I remember an email from Aishi asking me if I preferred the woman who called herself queen over them, and if so did I know why. Was she just so much nice? So much smarter? So much of what, Aishi wanted to know If talking with them was such a hassle, compelled to this new person, then why was I bothering. Aishi told me not to bother. I need not bother. Because Aishi could just leave at any time. Simple as that.
Goodbye, the end of the email said. Goodbye forever.
In some ways, it did read like a child’s tantrum. But I was somewhat of a child myself, and I did not want to lose my friend. I kept sending them email after email sometimes begging to be taken back in their good graces and sometimes pretending that nothing was wrong. That I was unbothered if I had seen that email from them, but it looked like I didn’t. Maybe I didn’t see it. Or so I would try to write. But no matter what strategy I took, there was nothing. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Aishi did not even log into the Forum, back then, for that entire month, which okay, yeah I had disappeared for a while too. But I told them this was happening. And I reconnected as soon as I could. And it wasn’t out of anger or bitterness or jealousy.
There was hurt and then nothingness. No, not nothingness. Aishi didn’t take that hurt with them when they left. They left me sitting in that hurt until it seeped in and became my own. And I already told you that I didn’t do well with change or loss, even under the best of circumstances, which this was not.
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This podcast was supposed to be a search in their honor. Not a search, something, something for Aishi, and it’s been anything but about them. Just like back then. I think… I think I need to make this right. Somehow. Even if in this part of the story, Aishi does come back. But for all of you who have listened to these episodes, I should tell you more about Aishi.
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Aishi Online is a production of Miscellany Media Studios. It is written, produced, performed, and edited by MJ Bailey with music from the Sounds like an Earful music supply. If you like the show, please leave a review, tell a friend, or donate to the show’s Ko-Fi account.