Day 21: We're All Going to the World's Fair

Day 21 of Calloween Movie Month

Content warnings: flashing lights, unsettling imagery, unreality, suicide, self harm, body horror, probably way more info than you ever wanted about my life

Recommended?: Yes

Spoilers and discussion of many of the mentioned topics below. You have been warned.

Can I go throw my laptop into the ocean now?



We're All Going to the World's Fair follows Casey, a lonely teen who joins an odd ARG-like horror roleplaying game.

World's Fair is far from the first piece of modern media to try and be about The Internet, but out of everything I've seen it's by far the most human and empathetic attempt so far.

The horror doesn't come from what you might think. It's not from a creepypasta becoming real or an online predator going too far. It's from isolation and longing. The need to connect with someone, anyone you can. From the friends you talked to everyday that one day stopped coming online and never said goodbye. The sight of your own tired face in a blank computer screen.

Casey reminded me a lot of myself. Anyone who's known me for even a little while will know that I am a complete shut-in. I never leave my house unless I have to, and I hardly leave my room some days. When you're so isolated there's this bizarre thing your brain does where it makes you scared of... Well, existing. Knowing you're a person who can be perceived by others and seen by human eyes sets your nerves on fire and all you can do is sit with the black hole it creates in your stomach.

I sat, watching this movie alone in bed, on my laptop during a cold snowy day, and it felt like I had already been faced with that blank screen reflection before the film even ended.

When I was a kid, probably anywhere from 12-16, I used to participate in online roleplaying forums. Many of them are either inactive or completely shut down, but they were a great way for me to practice my writing, meet like-minded friends, and explore my identity. I sent out a starter once that had some rather sexual implications. An adult gay man responded to me, but he wasn't interested in the smut possibilities, and he didn't want to write romance with a teenager either. But I liked his writing style, so I implored him to roleplay with me nonetheless. Somehow he agreed, and we turned it into a straightforward horror story. A game of cat and mouse between a small sheepish anime boy and a merciless, isolated monster.

He said he liked my writing style, so we kept in touch when we finished.

I told him about my life, whatever there was to tell. About my early struggles with OCD and not knowing what name to put on any of the symptoms, calling them violent thoughts and scary 'sticky' images in my head. How I feared I was going crazy.

He told me he was a police officer stationed somewhere in South Africa. He said he was in his 30s and warned me of people his age pushing me to write about things with them that made me uncomfortable. He saw my anger about police brutality and told me he did everything he could to avoid hurting even the cruelest and most aggressive people he came across. He would disappear for months at a time, telling me his internet would simply be out that long or that he was too busy to chat or write with me. He gave me good advice when he did. I don't know if he was lying. I'm not sure what I believed about him. But when the little light would shine revealing he was at his computer I couldn't stop myself from smiling.

One day he just left and never came back. I don't know what happened to him. Maybe he was lying and simply got a job. Maybe he died. Maybe he felt creepy talking to a teenager who he thought was a girl. Maybe hearing about my intrusive thoughts killing myself by wrapping my own entrails around my throat and suffocating to death was too much for him. I don't know.

We never did know each other's names.

I think sometimes knowing that there's nothing and no one there is worse than the fear that there could be.