I Lived in a Place That Doesn't Exist

Dream-like reflections about the Second Life® world

From 2007 to 2018 I was a resident of Second Life®. Last year I decided to write down what I could still remember about it. This is the first entry from my journal.

November 30, 2024

I remember rezzing¹ a car on a rare sandbox area on top of the cobblestone road. Other times I arrived by boat to a port where I could transfer to a land vehicle. Then I would drive slowly to allow things to load. Most of the time I was completely alone, passing mostly empty grassland. There were areas of construction by Linden Lab®² employees. I saw many mansions that were built in order to be shown off. There were a lot of ugly, forgettable stores.

This was called the mainland, an island made up of many square land parcels quilted together. I kept stopping to look at my map to make sure I was going through the longest stretch of road possible. A lot of times I had no destination in mind; it was only about the journey.

Out of all the land parcels in the mainland, I most vividly remember the hobo town next to the train tracks. That was where it all started. I saw a machinima³ starring the regular residents of the circle of seats around the campfire. Those videos were the reason that I wanted to visit the place for myself. I shyly introduced myself to them, and I would quickly call the hobos my friends. They were creatives, philosophers, and mentors. I went to them to tell them my stories and see what was new in the land. Without that stable social network to incubate me in my early days, I doubt that I would’ve stayed more than a week or two.

There was a club, too. I don’t remember the name of it. It had a retro 1950s theme and a well-made neighborhood to match. The stores were classy, and the houses were designed by somebody who knew what they were doing. There were a lot of regular customers and dancers. I became a dancer myself, earning tips.

I spent a lot of time and money on changing my appearance. I admired people who stayed in one signature look, but I was a shape-shifting entity for years. Looking back now I see the limits to my creativity. The most popular stores put standards on body shapes, skins, and hairs. There wasn’t a mainstream store for well-made black hair, for example. I did try wearing dark hair and brown skin, but the result didn’t look Latina to me. Most of the time I presented myself as white, sometimes Asian. I was purple for a while.

I remember that you really had to do a lot of research to find human interaction. Most places were empty. There were a few clubs that were filled all day, but they would make you feel just as lonely. I mostly went to busy stores and malls that I learned about online. There was one annual event that showcased art and music from all over the world that I would always try to attend. I liked looking at people’s avatars⁴ and reading their profiles.

There were other ways to pass the time besides shopping and dancing like I did. Lots of land parcels were dedicated to every kind of roleplay. One company dedicated itself to making mystery games with puzzles and prizes. And there were many niche communities that come together around one thing only: car racing, wrestling, fetishes, or romance.

In the next entry, I will talk about the people that I met online and the effects SL® had on my real life. Feel free to ask questions in the comments below.

1. Rezzing means to take an object out of your inventory and place it on the ground.

2. Linden Lab® is the company that owns and operates Second Life® and all its trademarks.

3. Machinima is any narrative video that is made by recording a video game.

4. An avatar is a person’s inworld representation.