(no subject)
I just saw Cloverfield's midnight premiere. It is truly awesome indeed. But it caused a pang in me that I just can't shake.
It sometimes saddens me that most of the things I truly love about life are fictitious and will never happen.
I imagine walking across campus and then helicopters fly in overhead and armed soldiers rappel down tethers and hold me at gunpoint, only to have me knock them off their feeet with a force field.
I want to be on the run of a giant creature attacking New York City.
I want of watch the planet explode from the safety of my space station, swearing on the human race that I would destroy the alien race that doomed us all.
I want to feel the rushing of air as I stand on the helm of a great airship.
I want to be a robe-clad sorcerer fending off hordes of goblins with a vast array of spells at my literal fingertips.
I want to be in a robotic suit rampaging through town as the mad scientist bent on world destruction.
But I know that I'll never be able to do any of those. That's why I love video games so much. I can feel that joy through the extent of someone else, even if that character isn't real either.
It's not that I hate my life because I have a pretty good life. It's just that I'm not content with how mundane it is. I want there to be some sort of adventure that I go on, like a rite of passage before I die.
I wish I could express myself more artistically. I can come up with awesome stories and verbalize them very well, but I can't write them down worth a shit and I definitely can't draw them. I think that's why in my head I am convinced I'm going to go into game design when I get my degree, but I really know that it's just a false hope I'm clinging onto.
I'm not going to do video games with my degree. I don't know what I'm going to do with my degree, and it kinda bothers me.
I don't know what I'm going to do with my life. I don't know what trials I have yet to come across in my life. I don't even know what I'm going to have for lunch tomorrow.
But I do know that I'll never fight a dragon. And that depresses me.
It sometimes saddens me that most of the things I truly love about life are fictitious and will never happen.
I imagine walking across campus and then helicopters fly in overhead and armed soldiers rappel down tethers and hold me at gunpoint, only to have me knock them off their feeet with a force field.
I want to be on the run of a giant creature attacking New York City.
I want of watch the planet explode from the safety of my space station, swearing on the human race that I would destroy the alien race that doomed us all.
I want to feel the rushing of air as I stand on the helm of a great airship.
I want to be a robe-clad sorcerer fending off hordes of goblins with a vast array of spells at my literal fingertips.
I want to be in a robotic suit rampaging through town as the mad scientist bent on world destruction.
But I know that I'll never be able to do any of those. That's why I love video games so much. I can feel that joy through the extent of someone else, even if that character isn't real either.
It's not that I hate my life because I have a pretty good life. It's just that I'm not content with how mundane it is. I want there to be some sort of adventure that I go on, like a rite of passage before I die.
I wish I could express myself more artistically. I can come up with awesome stories and verbalize them very well, but I can't write them down worth a shit and I definitely can't draw them. I think that's why in my head I am convinced I'm going to go into game design when I get my degree, but I really know that it's just a false hope I'm clinging onto.
I'm not going to do video games with my degree. I don't know what I'm going to do with my degree, and it kinda bothers me.
I don't know what I'm going to do with my life. I don't know what trials I have yet to come across in my life. I don't even know what I'm going to have for lunch tomorrow.
But I do know that I'll never fight a dragon. And that depresses me.