It wasn’t long before some people who spent all their time wearing virtual headsets began to tire of the others who lived in the virtual world.
They started spending more time in their virtual apartments, enjoying the privacy, which made the virtual world feel as if it belonged to them and them alone.
There was occasionally a need to interact with others in this world, but these people wanted to do so strictly on their own terms. So they developed virtual computers and cell phones that allowed them to connect to others through virtual email and virtual text messaging. This allowed them to communicate without the need for real virtual physical contact.
Nonetheless, they began to yearn, sequestered as their were inside their virtual apartments, for a way to travel to another world that afforded them the freedom to roam and socialize, virtually, without the anxiety afforded by virtual human contact.
This led to the development of virtual virtual reality, in which people escaped from virtual reality into yet another reality. Soon, however, this reality grew stressful as well, requiring the development of yet another existence within the virtual virtual one. Thus was born virtual virtual virtual reality.
This process continued for countless years, with people burrowing deeper and deeper, virtual world within virtual world. In time, they forgot just how far down they’d gone. Thus it was that when students in college dorms speculated that their current world was illusion, that they were ignorant of just how deep inside the concentric nest of worlds they were.
For in fact, in order to properly express what their world was, it would have been necessary to write a sentence that began with the words “An illusion,” and then repeat the words “within an illusion” so many times that the number of sheets of paper it would take to write an accurate statement of the world would have stretched to the far side of the universe, if, indeed, that universe even existed.
Such conversations often led to madness, in which people spent the rest of their days huddled in padded cells, clutching their skulls and tearing out their hair in a fruitless search for headset headstraps that did or didn’t exist, wailing again and again “get it off of me...get it off of me.”