In the book, the serial killer is playing a rpg (role playing game) where he is the character named 'Death'. The only problem is that he has taken his 'fantasies' to a whole new level. He has started to live them out in real life, ie. he is killing people in real life. His life is his game.
It got me thinking, maybe life IS a game.
But, we are the only ones. As in, we ourselves, each individual creates our own rules for our own life. The serial killer chooses to kill according to the number that appears on the dice. We choose our own next moves by whatever method we choose to help us make decisions.
Life is a Game we play with ourselves.
Others can give you all the advice but you are always on your own for the next move.
You choose. Yes, we have freewill but it is a lonely game we play.
How have you chosen to play the game?
1 comment:
when I was younger, I remember getting kind of scared once because for a long time I imagined that when I played with my toys, I was like their 'god', and their world was actually real, and entirely controlled by me. At first my main worry was that if I didn't play with them often enough, I was denying them a life.
And then I freaked out because what if I was also actually only a doll in a slightly larger version of someone elses playhouse, and that person had decided that me as their doll should play dolls that day? what if they got bored of playing with me too and my I just ceased to live??
I think I thought too much sometimes.
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