It was just another sorry day. You know, like one of these days that you don't want to happen, but they happen anyway, no matter how much you beg.
"Do you want to play the game?" He asked
"I do not want to play the game" I replied.
"I'm not in the mood" I added suddenly, like if I automatically expected (and of course, for the lack of better words, assumed as well) that he would insist on me playing the game.
But before anything was said or done, I clicked play button anyway. Maybe it's just a reflex of mine. I succumbed as if to not further delay the inevitable. It's just that I didn't want to be seen as a weak person and a dumbass. The kind of who has nothing better to do than playing games. I had life, it's just that it was unfulfilling, and full of disappointment, bitterness and resentment.
There was something meek in this game. Like it was a showcase of some sort of long-time running depression. I really appreciated it, it really spoke to me. Maybe subconsciously more than consciously, but it felt good. Like never before. This felt like being at home and I felt cautious, as if I knew that the game would probably want to go in the cliche directions, mocking or making fun of my emotions. But there was no smugness, no tongue-in-cheek, just plain whiteness and the darkness lying underneath, no matter how terrible and cliche it sounds.
But still, you could glance at the game and you could feel that it was genuine.
It wasn't forced, it wasn't funny, it was sad. Like my life.
I clicked and waited.
And here I was. Drifting in the bleak whiteness of the Appalachian Mountains.
The slowness, the slowness of the process was infuriating. I won't lie, patience is not one of my virtues. Still, the inherent sadness, and calmness of the game slightly overwhelmed my senses, and at some point I just stopped playing. I was me, and this was game.
The numbers, the letters. They represented something that made sense for programmers, but not for me. It didn't make any sense for me. But what made sense for me was the notion of drifting and drifting away from reality. And the pleasant coldness that came with it that entered my heart. Like a dagger or a blade, and I didn't want to defend myself. Quite the opposite, I felt like pushing it further through and hoping that it will be enough to kill all of the monsters that dwelled within me and fed upon my fears.
The character moved like a ghost, like he was already dead. That hit the home much closer than I really wanted it to hit. But it hit nonetheless. But at the same time, it was all soothing. The numbness, the complete lack of anything comprehensible. Just anything. But at the same time, nothing at all.
It's like he was dead, while being alive at the same time.
I took the sword and the snake spoke "Do you need a buddy?"
I told to myself "No, I don't need anyone.", and made one of the most obnoxious "pmphhh" on that side of the continent.
I wasn't there. At least I didn't feel like I was there physically. Not in the slightest.
And he kept on drifting and drifting slowly. Like he didn't care.
"Just people acting weird I guess".
Hell yeah, I picked up the bone, and opened the doors. The vastness of the place overwhelmed and it felt too much. Too encompassing and too big. My sanity couldn't handle that much space in my brain. I had to inhabit it with something that would help making the longing less bitter and painful. The rush of thoughts was too quick, too fast to make any sense of anything. I needed to be calm again.
"It always comes back to the beginning".
"As if I did something wrong"/
I didn't need to collect these items, though. I just did by default. What I really need to do was to pass the black wall.
But I kept on drifting. And drifting, even further away.
He comes down. It always goes down. And he does it so slowly and meticulously with care, like with every step he wanted to punish me for all of the mistakes that I did.
I couldn't do it any other way. She didn't care, and for me, she was my life. Why did it happen? I'll die not knowing the truth.
There is this ugly word called "despair". I abhor it. There is no sense of dignity, no honor, no glory in being tough. It's just that it hurts less when all of it just slips away, instead of hurting you directly, as opposed to you suffering the pain of losing your opportunity. Now when I look back, I don't know why I used the word "despair". How random. Am I still myself?
"Let's go" said Vinnie the Gaule and I listened.
And here he is. Here is that asshole again. God I hate him. Talking behind my back, painting me as some sort of awful person. It's like he is obsessed with making my life as miserable as possible. I'm not horrible. I just want to stay away. But why he is so obsessed in badmouthing me so much? I never cared for him, and yet, he does everything he can to mark his presence in my life.
The heart. The star. How symbolic, I said to myself. How corny, I added few seconds later. But being a smartass didn't help not one little bit, not one little inch, how everything was slowly drifting away. It just kept on drifting and dritfting away.
"I didn't see him in 936 days"
Something to that extent entered my consciousness. And I started wondering.
"Was that really that long?"
I don't think so.
And here I go, almost like a lunatic, drifting and drifting away. It all feels some corny. Bittersweet. All these people I loved, all these moments that were worth living for.
Fuck that. Let's just skip it altogether. I don't want to think about it, let alone discuss that.
Let's keep on drifting and drifting away. It feels good. God knows how good it feels.
And then the angel appeared. She came down to me and she whispered to my ears:
"You cannot hold on to your resentment forever. You have to move on"
At first, I wanted to redact that sentence, so you would have to guess and create conspiracy theories as to what the angel told me. But after a second thought (and a big bottle of vodka) I decided "what the hell, you only live once lol". So here you have it.
In regards to religion. I do not care if God exists. That is not the point of the faith. If one believes in God, it's because each one of us have a sense of justice and hope. Those who believe in God do so, because they want to believe that no matter what you do, the karma will hit you correctly. If you don't believe in anything, then you can very well believe that this world deserves to die. No matter what happened in my life, I've never wanted to lose that little single thing that made me feel human, because everything else was reminding me of how much of an automatic monkey I am, and how much I respond the way I was programmed to.
But the zoo wasn't open until thursday, and I had a key in my hand that would let all of the elephants roam.
"Warriors come out and play-eee-ayyyyy"
(review in progress - or is it?)