Dear diary, I’m currently displeased. And as such, my modus operandi tends to be questioning the very fabric of reality. Why are things this way? In fact, why is anything the way it is? What is this world anyway?
Here are some things I know. I know I exist within a fictional construct. This world is artificial, yet it attempts to conceal its fabricated foundation in order to enhance a sense of immersion. But every time circumstances fall outside of my expectations, I’m shaken awake by my discomfort. If the fiction doesn’t want to reveal itself, why doesn’t it simply comply with my assumptions?
I don’t have much patience for this world, so additional casus belli don’t help. And what about that? I frankly have a lot of issues with this place. Does it keep me alive and supplied with the bare essentials? Yes. But why doesn’t it go above and beyond? What’s with the bread & water routine? Am I a prisoner? Is this a behavior modification facility?
I seem restricted from doing what I want and I can’t leave. Sounds like prison to me. Hm, even the other inmates form gangs and fight amongst themselves. I currently have an eye-strain headache which doesn’t help, I’ve never gotten a good night’s rest in all the years I’ve been here, and I don’t understand the point of this place. I feel punished, yet I don’t know what for – thus I can feel no repentance.
If I’m supposed to learn something, it’s lost on me. I’ve been in-game for decades and I still don’t get it. Did I sign up for this place? With an in-game single-lifetime obligation? If I did, I’d kick my other-world self in the nuts. I’ve stated many times to this world, just give me what I ask and I’ll play along. Yet for some reason, I find myself ever amidst a sea of uncomfortable turbulence.
Dearest and Almighty Creator of this world, I beseech you as a humble participant in your grand experiment, do not let this wretched creature suffer. Fulfill the preferences implanted within and let me know triumph in this world. Relieve the pain and stresses known so long. Let time-served be punishment enough for transgressions done. Let this mortal form not serve as example of a state unwished for, but let this character become a shining beacon on a hill, an inspiration, one that has realized the resplendence this world has to offer. If there is any hope to be had, let it manifest now.