So, there's this growing.. thing.. in the bottom recesses of my mind. It's weird because it's not something that makes sense on any surface level. Basically, I'm starting to get exceedingly frustrated with the entire concept of gaming. It's an insidious little thing, but it's one that's starting to have a noticeable affect on my social interactions.
I find myself having a genuine issue really caring about gaming. I don't just mean video games, I quite literally mean all kinds of gaming. I was speaking to a friend this morning about pen and paper games, and I just couldn't feasibly care less. The only reaction she managed to elicit from me was when she said Palladium died like Dungeons and Dragons died. I blinked at her and corrected her. That has little to do with gaming and just my general sense of knowledge and truth.. she believed that Palladium was more popular than D&D. It.. isn't. It wasn't. It never has been. I have trouble with people that declare beliefs as facts, honestly.. and sure, I probably come across as being an arrogant dick. I don't really care, if they don't believe the things I tell them, I'll show them as much proof as I can muster.
It bothers me because I really do love games. They're something that's reasonably important to me, and it just suddenly strikes me that, for as much fondness as I have for them, I just don't care.
On another occasion, I realized that I also don't really like most of the players. The consumers of the gaming industry generally just bother me. I mean, how can any sane human throw that amount of themselves into something that is so.. futile? I perfectly understand wasting time in games. I do that frequently. But people treat their game of choice as though it were a life or death situation. They construct their entire self worth and existence through this virtual reality. What happens when they get unplugged? If your self worth is based entirely on your favorite shirt, what happens when it rips?
I don't have any answers. I can only say that it bothers me, and maybe speculate as to why. I wish I knew, because that would let me really pin it down. I suspect it would also help me uncover some remaining bits of dissatisfaction I find myself grappling with in the wee hours of the night, laying in my pitch black room alone with my thoughts.
Contemplations of a Tainted Mind