The Man I Made

Gentleman

In the year 2007 I embarked on a virtual adventure that ended September 2018.

During those years I lived a virtual life as a man named Daniel Wolfsong. And during those years Daniel was married, was a filmmaker, owned a bar, became a DJ and party Host, went on to be an inventor, engineer and business owner, philanthropist, divorced and subsequently had a series of failed dating experiences.

Still, during all those years I was Daniel and he, I.

I actually “lived” in a virtual world – only managing to tear myself away for Real Life work and other obligations.

I used to think that the reason I became Daniel was important – but you know what? It isn’t.

What’s important is for me to serve as a witness and testify to his existence. Because, of all my creations, he stands-out as my virtual magnum opus. And now, in retrospect, he becomes my mirror, reminding me that I’m not all bad.

Daniel’s account has not been deleted. But in most ways his life has been terminated. Not because I meant him any harm – I only wished to set him free.

He enjoyed his bar, he loved his wife, he honored his friendships, he was a self-taught builder, engineer and businessman, he loved unapologetically and he always kept his word. He was most happy exploring, sailing, diving and partying with friends. He was the very best version of a man I could create and be, thus, I will always be very proud of him and his accomplishments. More importantly, I will always love, respect and cherish the part of me that he represented.

Here’s some photos of the last few years of his life.

And here is a song to send him on to his next adventure.

This is a poem I wrote about him –

Redwood

His mind was not like the minds of other men.

His mind was a perpetual 3 ring circus, a laser light show, a carnival, Moulin Rouge, La Cage aux Folles, a bullet train, a fireworks show, a ride into outer space, a mythological compendium of staggering proportions. His imagination never slept.

When he had ideas they always arrived fully-formed, without a detail missing and in Technicolor 3D

His heart was not like the hearts of other men.

His heart was a multi-dimensional, ever-expanding quantum field blown wide-open by nuclear scale emotional flux.

In his heart he carried both the power to heal and destroy. In his heart were sealed chambers located off dark passageways no one had ever seen, spare him.

His body was not like the bodies of other men.

He did not exist in corporeal form, but in a complex latticework of zeros and ones, fully digital, a mass of assembled pixels on a video screen. His body existed in no dimension and every dimension simultaneously – having to be processed on screen by the visual cortex of everyone he encountered in order to exist.

He could not touch but he could feel.

He could not speak but he could hear.

Still he brought idea to form.

Still he dreamed and lived in dreams.

Still he walked and ran and ate and drank and slept and loved and built and laughed and cried and fell to his knees, breathless.

His passion was not like the passions of other men.

He implanted his passion deeply into everything he touched.

In people, in projects, in dreams and aspirations, in plans, in thought and deed.

In color and line, in sound and rhythm.

His deep abiding passion was the most honest part of him because it came forth pure, deep-rooted, raw and undiluted. It poured out white hot and burned a path to its destination.

When he fell he did not fall like other men.

He fell like a giant Redwood on a warm summer night with a sky deep black and blanketed with stars. He crashed down on the cool forest floor in a thunderous tumult. And all anyone could do was watch because you cannot stop a force of nature whose time has come.

And when he was gone – he was not gone like other men.

He left in his place a vacuum – an open incision in time-space. No one could follow him. Nobody knew where he went. He was just gone.