I’ve come to the conclusion that video games make me a bad person. And not in the fun way.
I don’t play them all that often, so when I decide to turn on a game, it starts out innocently enough. I enjoy myself with the running and the jumping and whatnot. I question my reasons for not playing them on a more regular basis.
Eventually, I start dying; my once-healthy amount of lives start to dwindle and I become more critical of my actions.
I start becoming more and more serious and more and more frustrated (because I keep dying!) . In no time, I’m cursing at the TV (yes, it’s the TV’s fault) and chastising myself for being a loser.
Jump higher… not that high!
Run faster… wait, slow down!
Okay, calm down… why’d you walk right into him – what’s wrong with you!?!?!?
I’m pretty sure my neighbours think I’m insane because, I tell ya, I’m not quiet about it. After awhile, I decide a break is in order; my blood pressure is probably higher than is good for me. I start puttering around the house, but if I need to use any kind of electronic device, I have instant frustration.
Boot up faster, computer! I said…. Internet, is that so hard? What? Do I need to click you four fucking times all of a sudden?
Hello?? I said eject. Why aren’t you ejecting? Just give me the movie, blu-ray, why do you want to hold on to it so badly? Are you in love with it?
I pre-heated you like an hour ago… why aren’t you hot yet? Oh, get over yourself, oven!!
Once I walk away from the computer/dvd player/oven/my life with frustration seeping out of my pores, I realize I might have a problem. I’ve become a mean
er person; I’ve become a complete and total rager. It’s best that I don’t get behind the wheel when I’m like this; I’m liable to murder someone.
Luckily I only have two more worlds of Super Mario Brothers to get through.