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I sit, crouched back. Father told me not to. Eyes transfixed on the 28" Screen, in a half lit room, in the middle of nowhere. All knowledge of me is non-existent; my back withheld a number of spasms as I reach for my half-empty can of Pepsi.
Eyes taking the strain of nearly fifteen hours of gaming, my vision is blurry, as I make for the lavatory, I slip a number of times, due to the hunch developing on my reverse.
I return to the murky room, curtains drawn, light in my face. I return to more games, I like my games, I do.
Blisters develop on my fingertips after around twenty hours, the relief as the left trigger penetrates, my over inflated skin. My eyes concentrate sincerely on the monitor, not much action, nothing new; yet, I'm not going anywhere.
I roll onto the hard carpet, as my spine alters, out of place. No one can hear me shout. This is the life I have chosen. Where's Mario when you crack your precious skull on the shelf, as you fall down, consciously? Where's Sonic? No one is here now, to have rejected the real people, to incorporate these games into this life, to such an extent; I find it hard to walk.
I try to make for the phone, knees collapse under the weight, I try to pull myself up, I cling onto the desk, In desperation to prevail, I slip, the 28" Television cannot withhold that amount of pressure, it rocks slowly. Time moves slowly as i try to steady it. It tumbles onto my weak body.
Halo still playing in the background, the cheerful screeching of the covenant, are the last things I hear of my real life.
As the alarm rings in my ear, I awake. I check my back, no hunch; my fingers hold no blistering and my legs support me. The lesson has been taught.
I set out of the front door, take a deep breath. And go for a mild walk, in this delicate body. I will return for one hour of gaming.
Gaming is not my life, and never will be. However, It shall be a part of my life forever…
Cheers
Eyes taking the strain of nearly fifteen hours of gaming, my vision is blurry, as I make for the lavatory, I slip a number of times, due to the hunch developing on my reverse.
I return to the murky room, curtains drawn, light in my face. I return to more games, I like my games, I do.
Blisters develop on my fingertips after around twenty hours, the relief as the left trigger penetrates, my over inflated skin. My eyes concentrate sincerely on the monitor, not much action, nothing new; yet, I'm not going anywhere.
I roll onto the hard carpet, as my spine alters, out of place. No one can hear me shout. This is the life I have chosen. Where's Mario when you crack your precious skull on the shelf, as you fall down, consciously? Where's Sonic? No one is here now, to have rejected the real people, to incorporate these games into this life, to such an extent; I find it hard to walk.
I try to make for the phone, knees collapse under the weight, I try to pull myself up, I cling onto the desk, In desperation to prevail, I slip, the 28" Television cannot withhold that amount of pressure, it rocks slowly. Time moves slowly as i try to steady it. It tumbles onto my weak body.
Halo still playing in the background, the cheerful screeching of the covenant, are the last things I hear of my real life.
As the alarm rings in my ear, I awake. I check my back, no hunch; my fingers hold no blistering and my legs support me. The lesson has been taught.
I set out of the front door, take a deep breath. And go for a mild walk, in this delicate body. I will return for one hour of gaming.
Gaming is not my life, and never will be. However, It shall be a part of my life forever…
Cheers
Thank you for the feedback :-)
Er......yes.
well i dunno if you want to hear this but this is my lifestyle, good lesson though, may make me think about my life soon instead of just staying on the computer/ ps2/ ps1/ gamecube/ xbox/ n64/ gba/ megadrive, i dont have a megadrive but a megadrive emulator thing on the pc which is always nice to have if u wanna go old school, in those old days
Brilliant.
I sit, crouched back. Father told me not to. Eyes transfixed on the 28" Screen, in a half lit room, in the middle of nowhere. All knowledge of me is non-existent; my back withheld a number of spasms as I reach for my half-empty can of Pepsi.
Eyes taking the strain of nearly fifteen hours of gaming, my vision is blurry, as I make for the lavatory, I slip a number of times, due to the hunch developing on my reverse.
I return to the murky room, curtains drawn, light in my face. I return to more games, I like my games, I do.
Blisters develop on my fingertips after around twenty hours, the relief as the left trigger penetrates, my over inflated skin. My eyes concentrate sincerely on the monitor, not much action, nothing new; yet, I'm not going anywhere.
I roll onto the hard carpet, as my spine alters, out of place. No one can hear me shout. This is the life I have chosen. Where's Mario when you crack your precious skull on the shelf, as you fall down, consciously? Where's Sonic? No one is here now, to have rejected the real people, to incorporate these games into this life, to such an extent; I find it hard to walk.
I try to make for the phone, knees collapse under the weight, I try to pull myself up, I cling onto the desk, In desperation to prevail, I slip, the 28" Television cannot withhold that amount of pressure, it rocks slowly. Time moves slowly as i try to steady it. It tumbles onto my weak body.
Halo still playing in the background, the cheerful screeching of the covenant, are the last things I hear of my real life.
As the alarm rings in my ear, I awake. I check my back, no hunch; my fingers hold no blistering and my legs support me. The lesson has been taught.
I set out of the front door, take a deep breath. And go for a mild walk, in this delicate body. I will return for one hour of gaming.
Gaming is not my life, and never will be. However, It shall be a part of my life forever…
Cheers
Eyes taking the strain of nearly fifteen hours of gaming, my vision is blurry, as I make for the lavatory, I slip a number of times, due to the hunch developing on my reverse.
I return to the murky room, curtains drawn, light in my face. I return to more games, I like my games, I do.
Blisters develop on my fingertips after around twenty hours, the relief as the left trigger penetrates, my over inflated skin. My eyes concentrate sincerely on the monitor, not much action, nothing new; yet, I'm not going anywhere.
I roll onto the hard carpet, as my spine alters, out of place. No one can hear me shout. This is the life I have chosen. Where's Mario when you crack your precious skull on the shelf, as you fall down, consciously? Where's Sonic? No one is here now, to have rejected the real people, to incorporate these games into this life, to such an extent; I find it hard to walk.
I try to make for the phone, knees collapse under the weight, I try to pull myself up, I cling onto the desk, In desperation to prevail, I slip, the 28" Television cannot withhold that amount of pressure, it rocks slowly. Time moves slowly as i try to steady it. It tumbles onto my weak body.
Halo still playing in the background, the cheerful screeching of the covenant, are the last things I hear of my real life.
As the alarm rings in my ear, I awake. I check my back, no hunch; my fingers hold no blistering and my legs support me. The lesson has been taught.
I set out of the front door, take a deep breath. And go for a mild walk, in this delicate body. I will return for one hour of gaming.
Gaming is not my life, and never will be. However, It shall be a part of my life forever…
Cheers