I had to re-write this 3 times, because time and time again it had the consistency of spaghetti, which would make it remarkably similar to how my mind would look if you cracked my skull like an egg, which honestly I wouldn’t mind much.
I quit the MUD I’ve been playing for a near perfect 1000 days, ending the addiction that has kept me hooked for 8 years.
8 years, filled with countless hours, days, nights, weeks of typing and reading. And at the end of it all, nothing to show for it, but unbelievable lengths of logs. All the work I put into it is now rendered completely useless, serving the amusement of individuals I no longer want any business with.
I wish I could say I have no regrets, but that’s not how addiction works, is it? It was always the feedback of a select few that kept me attracted, and I would do so much to be able to take that along with me. In time, they managed to get a hold on me more than I should ever allow and today, all I have left is that lingering attraction, making me want to beat it out of myself. But eh, how stupid would that look…
I feel the connection fading already, and though it stings, it’s probably for the best. Wishful thinking really can take you for a ride.
Despite all its negative effects, I may just owe my sanity to this game. It didn’t only serve as an effective way to vent inspiration and frustration, but it also helped fight the boredom when needed and, more importantly, numb the pain when it grew out of control. Pretending not to have problems takes a load off your mind.
So now I’m faced with reality, and luckily in a stage in my life where I can afford it. I even dare say, timing couldn’t have been better. I’m facing a life-changing summer and I don’t want to spend it indoors.
It’s going to… suck so hard, though. Like the drain of an olympic pool kind of hard. It sucks so hard, it pulls your organs out through whatever hole you can fit over there, or create one in whatever limb you insist on feeling your way around with. I will be running up walls- already am, because I think and analyze and overthink and overanalyze with nothing to break through all this to let my mind roam freely. The few dreams that I can remember of late already managed to give me a genuine scare, and I wonder what the long-term effects are going to be as all this builds up.
A friend of mine, about a year younger I believe, used to live in town here but he moved to Antwerpen (Antwerp, whatever). He found himself a beautiful girl there and now they live together and had a baby that turned out to be a girl. Oddly worded you might think (admit it), but from my perspective, this is pretty much exactly what occurred. It all happened so fast, and just yesterday I went to visit them and within seconds I was holding a tiny little human in my arms, frozen in place not to risk making any wrong move that would kill it in several horrific ways at once.
I have never held anything human before, younger than 12 years old or so. I have never even seen one from up close, they kind of freak me out. So put yourself in my position for a moment, and imagine being given something that wouldn’t even survive without constant care. Some day very soon this would become the kind of creature that makes me look away, but there and then, my friends just went and trusted me with its life.
Of course I’m overreacting, but… holy hit, this thing had no teeth. It can’t eat. It can do nothing but make little sounds unconsciously. Its life is one big sequence of trial and error, finding out what hurts where when another “error” is made.
It scared the fuck out of me, yes. Besides wanting to stab anything that came near it, I was more than ready to throw it back into its monther’s arms like C4 going ‘boo’ at the first signs of me doing something wrong with it. It must have been obvious, because even the baby at one point was looking at me with a face like “Will you chill the fuck out already.” And even that face was tiny. It was all there; you know, nose, eyes, suspecting frown, but it was all in miniature. And I just… couldn’t comprehend it fully. One day I’m lifting and tipping flight cases with a team of four to ram them between a stack on a trailer with a prehistorical grunt, and the next I am awkwardly holding this mini person, stripped of every single but a select few survival skills.
Sucking, grabbing,… That’s it, right? I was told there was very little I could do wrong with it, but oh, please do support its head because it doesn’t have control over its neck muscles yet. It kept face-butting my shoulder.
I’m not sure I mentioned this before: A few friends invited me with them to go on a 5-day hike through Scotland. I am broke, just went walking for a full 2 months and have a life to piece together, so naturally I said yes.
Luckily the state –I got the news today- “owes” me about €1000. How much of that I will actually get and when remains the question, but I’m hoping about double, today. It doesn’t hurt being honest.
We’ll see how that works out. Wish me luck, I’ll need it. Again. I’m beginning to rather like this life of blind leaps.