A very nice piece, I think. Standing ready, and the only direction is down. Oddly, the metaphorical feeling of standing on a roof with no other way to go but straight down is familiar, and it is almost unwelcome.
Things don't feel like they used to. Work is no longer as empty. Sleep is no longer as relaxing. Games are no longer as enjoyable. Food no longer tastes as good. Pain no longer hurts as much.
Maybe I've just started to grow number as time goes on, losing touch with everything around me. May, I believe, called this a "quarter life crisis," or something along those lines. It is an interesting means of categorizing this. The feeling that you've achieved nothing, that you are never going to achieve anything, and the odd, disturbing realization that you're more mortified by the notion of succeeding than you are at the prospect of impending failure.
I suppose, in a way, I can blame this on the fact that I feel older than I should. I don't seem to have the energy or the euphoria that people my age should. This insane, almost instinctive drive to prove ourselves masters of the universe, that we --- and we alone --- have glimpsed the fine threads that bely reality's fundamental mechanisms. Yeah, I have none of that perceived invincibility and supremacy. Instead, I have a crushing acceptance of the futility of human pursuit.
About nine years ago, the original Starcraft came out. I was among the first players here to see it was a good game. In some ways, I think I even predicted it would become the hit it is today. I had long forgotten how to play it by the time it became popular. Now, Starcraft II is looming over the horizon. Unlike most, who have become excited by the prospect of the sequel hitting the markets very soon, the impending release just reminds me it has been so very, very long.
Several years older, but not several years wiser.
Every day, I wake up with just a little less energy. Just a little less desire to actually wake up. Just a little more disappointment that I actually woke up in the first place. I guess you could say I'm dying inside in a more obvious manner than usual. Or, as others I know might theorize, I am adrift and badly in need of a new direction.
Through all this, I hear the voices in my head. For the first time I can remember, I can hear them clearly.
Perhaps, just perhaps, I will listen.
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