Button-Down Kinda Life

When I was in grade school, I dreamed of great things. Basketball player, president, senator… I knew I would succeed because I believed so much in my abilities that I knew even half-assing would bring me greatness. This feeling held throughout most of highschool. I dreamt of being rich, of owning mansions. That BMW I see would soon be reality for me. I was on an unstoppable path towards greatness as only someone destined to be, could be. And I believed all of this.

In college though, something changed. Maybe it was the effect of growing old, maybe it was the onset of cynicism that destroys fantasies. Maybe it was just me being a realist. Perhaps the state of the country had something to do with this, or the fact that I was a naturally lazy person who could rely on my natural abilities rather than on any hard work. Maybe I was losing my edge. I no longer loved money as much as I used to (although you can never say no). I grew bored of politics and business and drawing (I still liked writing - thank God). I was faced with a crisis! I still kept my fantasies, but they were no longer centered around the usual things people wanted. I was in search of a passion.

It was a combination of this change, plus an apparent lack of ability to think ahead, that contributed to my “dulling”. I was always a “for-the-present” guy. I rarely thought about the future, and when I did, it was with abstract ideals like “happiness”, “success”, “fulfillment”. It was  never anything concrete, never anything to say that “Look, this is what I want to do.” For a person who always lives for the moment, this is very hard to do.

In many ways though, I’m glad that I still  have the dreamer in me. Perhaps he dreams of other things now, like working for an non-profit environmental organization, or seeing as much of the world as he can, or writing columns… but he still dreams. And I still believe in my abilities. Looking back now, losing that “edge” could have been nothing more than changing the blade. And the wielder of the knife is so unused to seeing a new blade that he perceives dullness where there is sharp steel.

I’ve always seen myself as a gamer. My childhood was spent in front of the television, playing console games ranging from Duckhunt, to Spartan X, to Mario. I played Final Fantasy, was immersed in a myriad of RPG’s. I spent years playing Ragnarok Online, dreamed of better pc’s, not for editing, or the speed, but simply for its capacity to run better games. Graphics whore, lore nut, I probably spent a few actual years of my life playing games.

What is it about games that generate so much addiction? At the end of the day, it seemed, I was just another junkie, getting my high off these games. Online games in particular, were highly appealing to me. Perhaps it was because the real world, in contrast, seemed so dull and boring. Sometimes I felt it was what I was meant to do, play my life out as some Undead Rogue.

For many people, games serve as an escape from reality. It’s a way of coping with stress, and enjoying themselves amidst some fun competition. Other people see it as a form of social interaction. I once wrote a paper on how we can be the persona we choose to be in online games. Maybe some people like it that way. Games also serve as a way of stoking one’s ego. How many times has that high-leveled paladin turn out to be some guy who works in a fastfood chain selling burgers? You’ll be some lowly guy in real life, but you can be a king in a game. Who can say no to that?

In my opinion, gaming is a much deeper subject than many people realize. It’s something so full of potential that people see only the external appearances of games, and, unless they’re gamers themselves, often neglect to see the meaning in a few bunch of pixels.

Then again, maybe that’s all there is to it.