Sometimes it’s nice – having a secret band of friends half a world away. You are an escape. A distraction from the drudgery of every day life. Sometimes it can be lonely though – realising how few friends you have in the “real” world.
Nobody mentions that as you grow up, “you” will slowly and steadily be chipped away at until there is very little left – that you will become absent in the lives of nearly everybody you once knew.
We all dress up our problems in positive phrases – learned and repeated even though we rarely believe them. For many it’s the 95% hell of daily life, that somehow becomes “worth it” for the 5% return. Everybody has a story to wallpaper over their daily struggle.
A part of me wants to embark on some kind of damn fool adventure in order to have a story to tell – because otherwise all I have is my thoughts, and they eventually become insanely recursive, tedious, and boring.