Still Gray

I’d discovered that someone I know from a gaming community that I usually frequent was stalking some girl, whom he knew in real life. He’d posted her picture, named her, and told us he was in love with her and that he needed her in his life. He’d mentioned that he had managed to acquire her phone number by paying one of her friends for it.

This struck me as awkward, but I tried to brush it off.

As I knew he suffered from some form of social anxiety, I thought at first that it was just some girl from school or college that he’d had a crush on but couldn’t find the guts to talk to and so I told him to gather up his courage to speak to her instead of just looking at her Facebook account or longing for her to be with him. If they could become friends, I thought, he might even have a chance of going out with her like a normal person.

Alas, my advice was shot down by others in the community who knew more about the situation than I did. It would appear that the girl and he had previous run-ins, and that she was well aware of the guy’s infatuation, or dare I say obsession. I’m even told that the law became involved. It seemed incredulous – I had played hours of Left 4 Dead with this guy, been acquainted with him for months, and spent much time in the community involved in projects surrounding Warhammer painting, rekindling old loves for old games like X-Com and the like. To hear this about him was a shock.

He has pursued this girl for years – since 2006, I believe. To my knowledge, they haven’t a single thing in common.

Unlike other people who remember the good times they’ve had with someone they loved – the times they laughed together, held hands or shared a common interest, all he remembers are the times he’s seen his own reflection on windows as he stared at her. Longing for that mirrored perspective, where the two of them could be lovers at last – like the Death Cab for Cutie song.

He’d acquired her phone number through dubious means, acquired her photographs, and followed her whereabouts. The law became involved, and though she couldn’t take out a restraining order against him, he’d agreed to go on medication for his psychosis.

Through inquiry, I discovered that he’d divulged to a mutual friend of ours that he believed that he’d like for her to “have him in her thoughts” than not at all, because it was “better than nothing”, to which our friend replied, “God dammit, leave her alone.” I’m praying that he listens.

Our friend also told me how he fantasized of a house in the woods, in which she and other girls with whom he held an unhealthy interest would live in, like a harem. It’s a fucked up thought, and I don’t understand how anyone could see the appeal in something like that.

…

Today was her birthday, and he told us that he thought of calling her up on the phone. We told him not to, and so he didn’t. Can you imagine receiving a phone call on your birthday from someone you never want to hear from ever again?

He also told us how there would be times when it felt as if she was with him, right by his side. He’d make decisions under her advice, imagining what she’d say to each of the things he did, and lived his life accordingly. “This is what she’d want me to do,” he deluded himself into thinking.

It’s all rather odd, considering how she didn’t want her in his thoughts at all. I do not think that he belongs to himself, with his thoughts in control of an imagined presence. He might be on strong anti-psychotic medication, but what use are those if he continues to harbor these feelings, as if they were rational?

I took it upon myself to harshly criticize someone’s 204-word short story, which he’d posted up on reddit’s writing section – or subreddit, as the proper term happens to be.

I can only speculate as to the reasons why he posted up his story – perhaps he was seeking criticism, in which case most of the comments, including my own, would’ve hopefully been well received.

If he’d done so in search of fame, then what he received in return were harsh lessons in the form of remarks that served, probably, to berate his ego and liberate him from his delusion that he was a good writer simply because he possessed the knowledge of “big” words.

What is the value of such knowledge without the wisdom to realize that such uncommon words, unless used sparingly, resolve into a quotidian mish mash bereft of splendor? Hey, cool, I know how to use big words, too. Did you know that the proper term for “big words” is “sesquipedalian”? To prompt a non-sequitur, it’s cool to learn something new every day.

I bear no ill will towards the dude –  I mean, I don’t hate the guy just because he’s a shitty writer. My personal reasoning – or at least what I tell myself so I don’t feel guilty about being a major dick to this guy – echoes a fellow reader’s comments which went along the lines of Nietzsche’s famous quote, “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” a philosophy that the submitter would be wise to embrace, especially in the wake of his story’s feedback.

Unlike the dude that I criticized, Nietzsche knew what he was talking about.

———————

Oh yeah, I plan on updating this tumbleblog whenever I feel like it. I’ll fill it up with my thoughts and write about whatever comes to mind. I don’t really care if anyone reads it so it’s going to be pretty self-centered and everything. I don’t mean that in a “fuck you, I don’t give a shit” kind of way. That kind of behaviour is so passé. It’s just a disclaimer regarding the content on here.

One can bemoan the state of one’s existence and go on for ages about how one could be a ‘prolific writer’ if only one wrote more often. It’s an exercise in futility, to be sure.

What was the point again? I don’t think I ever had one. Oh, self-indulgence! You do me in time and time again.

It should bug me that I’ve been ripped into by whole bunch of people for being an ‘oversensitive pussy’ just for taking a stand against homophobia in my blog post on the subject, and in every single one of these instances, I’ve been accused of “making a big deal out of it” even though all I did was call the whole exercise of throwing terms like ‘faggot’ around immature and idiotic.

It would seem to me that the only people making a big deal out of any issue, or being ‘oversensitive pussies’, to use their misogynistic nomenclature, would be the petulant children who can’t deal with the fact that using words like ‘nigger’ and ‘faggot’ around with reckless abandon make them seem no more mature than a classroom full of 1st graders.

In what world do we live where racism, sexism and homophobia are nonexistent issues? The only time anyone should feel offended by a call for social equality is if they have something personal to lose. It’s as if being a douchebag puts them in a position of power. It also seems to me that the people who think others are being ‘oversensitive’ are the ones most sensitive to criticism.

Neither I nor anyone else should not be expected to internalize bigoted slurs as if taking offense is somehow the fault of the listener. After all, you have to go out of your way to be a douchebag.

With regards to the “WHATS THE BIG DEAL ITS NOT THE END OF THE WORLD” schtick which is sometimes brought up as if it were a valid comparison to make — someone ought to bring it up the next time you lose your job or when your girlfriend dumps you or something. Hey, why worry? It’s not the end of the world.

This whole argument reminds me of the piece on BitMob about how complaining about games is insignificant when your friend is dying of cancer so everyone should stop complaining about anything that’s relatively insignificant because someone somewhere might be dying of cancer and we should all get a good perspective of things. But hey, if you want to put everything into perspective, realize that our lives are pretty insignificant in the sum of all history so why don’t we all just grab our dicks and go fuck ourselves because that’s all we’re good for anyway.

Just plain old Atheism for me, thanks. Yeah, it’s all rather straightforward.

twyst:

Buddhism for the win!

Twitter is collapsing under the weight of its own success.

Re:

gyahhh:

I AM SERIOUSLY TIRED OF YOU, FAILWHALE

Yes, that’s his belly button. Either way, who doesn’t love a cute chibi’d up Amaterasu? They should totally make miniature versions of these. Cute!

brynhildr:

tinycartridge:

Chibiterasu and Kuninushi statues at Capcom’s Tokyo Game Show booth. Attendees can have their photos taken next to the Okamiden: Chiisaki Taiyo (Okami Chronicles: Tiny Sun) characters starting tomorrow.

That kid’s outtie is fierce.

Buy: Okami Wii ($33.99)

See also: Okamiden trailer

[Via Kramez, Go Nintendo]

theakamilla:

Holy shit, is this real?

I wish.

Left 4 Dead 2 Uncensored Box Cover Art

Brain drain. It’s as close to having brain damage as I’ve experienced. Feeling lethargic and sick for the past few days has put a severe damper on my ability to articulate myself at any decent length. Severely frustrating is the inability to come up with anything *reasonable* to talk about.

I mean, I write about games, and it shouldn’t be tremendously difficult for me to come up with something to say about a certain game or even a specific aspect of the game industry. It’s not as if I’m bereft of opinions when it comes to the subject as a broad whole.

Bah.