Blame It On the Avatar.

On video games and videos.

Lisa Martens
Sep 17, 2020 · 3 min read
Photo by Manny Moreno on Unsplash

My avatar was building its own avatar. It was being recorded for all to see. My voice was narrating but I wasn’t talking. It already had a million views, and I didn’t remember making it.

But that’s when I remembered that I had set up my avatar to make its own stories. She was doing a great job. She was more entertaining than I was, but she had my flare.

All my flare and none of my hesitations — my avatar was not worried her jokes would offend anyone, she was not worried about anyone judging her sex life, and I could fall back on that safety.

It wasn’t me.

It was my avatar.

The 2020 version of “blame it on the alcohol.”

Blame it on the avatar.

My avatar built a sexy version of herself.

She wore black lingerie. A thong. She slapped men. She spanked them. She yelled at them and called them names. She put their dicks in cages so they couldn’t get hard.

Erections ruin everything, she said.

But it was just my avatar.

That’s not me.

That wasn’t me.

My avatar’s sex avatar created her own avatar for the deep, bad thoughts she couldn’t express.

Even I had to wonder: Was this a trip deeper into my own mind, or was it something else at this point? After all, the avatar I created was not a microcosm of me. It was the exaggerated traits I wanted to have. Bigger eyes. Smaller waist. It looked like me…sort of. So weren’t her fantasies strange, exaggerated versions of mine? And so on and on?

The sex avatar created a criminal avatar. Someone who was not so much violent as cunning. She performed strange magic to make everyone fall madly in love with her.

All these things were funny and entertaining. The money started to come in.

I wanted to pull the plug on my avatars, but I could not. Not because I felt anything for them, but because, during the pandemic recession, they were keeping me above water.

My job paid me just enough that I didn’t qualify for pandemic assistance, and I needed the extra money.

Extra. Hah.

My main avatar made me a few hundred a month. The sex avatar, much more. The criminal avatar was not so popular, but she had a niche following. The darkness she embraced attracted conspiracy theorists and dark web enthusiasts. In total, they made me enough money to pay my rent and my bills. My job went to my groceries and savings.

Not too bad.

I put a cap on avatar creation. I would not let the criminal avatar create a new one.

She thought it was unfair. She hated me.

She put out slander videos against me. I read the comments.

Her followers wanted to kill me.

I thought about calling the cops. Taking the site down. Purging the information.

It really was the avatar’s fault.

But I knew everyone would just blame me.

Lisa Martens

Written by

Always and never the same🖤🕸 Buy me an iced latte: https://ko-fi.com/lisamartens Links: https://linktr.ee/lisathewriter 📚 lisa.snetram@gmail.com

“Are you okay?”

Stories that cause “concern.” Feminism. Satire. Humor. Misc.

Lisa Martens

Written by

Always and never the same🖤🕸 Buy me an iced latte: https://ko-fi.com/lisamartens Links: https://linktr.ee/lisathewriter 📚 lisa.snetram@gmail.com

“Are you okay?”

Stories that cause “concern.” Feminism. Satire. Humor. Misc.

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