Friday, February 27, 2015

Hype Misunderstood

When I was younger I got my wife (now ex-wife) pregnant with our first child. I remember how excited we were to have a baby. For 9 months all we could do was talk about our plans for the baby and how great we are going to be as parents. We talked about our future in great detail. Not just 9 months later or the first few years, but a lifetime of plans together with our new baby.

Some of our plans were:

1. Be Super amazing parents and nurture our child every step of the way.

2. Teach our child together with the same rules and responsibilities.

3. Love our kid and each other.

4. Send him/her to the best collage in the world.

5. Have him/her do all the sports because we have superhuman genetics.

6. He/she should win the Nobel Peace award.

7. World peace... Definitely!

8. Best kid in the world without a doubt.

9. He/she is going to make us billions! BILLIONS!!

10. I'll be surprised if the baby doesn't come out speaking with a British accent holding a martini.

For 9 months we had a perfect life. Well, except when she was in a hormonal bitch-fit. Other than that though, life was perfect. We would walk around with birds singing our names and other women would line up to touch my penis wife's belly. Damn, when is somebody going to shake the real creator of this baby?

About 2 weeks over the due date we had our first baby. Our first of 3 sons. My wife was a total ass to me in the delivery room. There was blood everywhere. I needed sleep. Her vagina was a mess. What the hell happened to the martini? The whole birthing thing did not go as planned at all. It wasn't bad, but nothing could've prepared us for it. Not even stupid books or past experience of other people. Our baby was unique in his own way coming onto the world. Unique is not perfect.

Several years after our son was born and everything on our list of hopes and dreams was burned, we decided to try again. I remember standing naked over my wife after using her like a Chucky Cheese Skeetball machine thinking to myself, "this time, this time, I must have got it in the 500 hole!"

9 more months later, I realized my wife wasn't pulling her weight in the gene pool. That is the only way to explain the messed up coding our kids were coming out with. I knew it wasn't me. I did my job. I gave a 110%. My heart sunk and my marriage fell second to trying to fix the imperfections in my kids.

Third times a charm right? Wrong! No matter how much love you put into sex, it doesn't improve the sperm or egg quality in the end. No matter how much faith you put in your hopes and dreams, things we create have a life of their own. There is only so much you can control before it starts to control you. My 3rd son made me realize it was my fault. Yes I tried my hardest, my wife did too, we were super hyped each time, we believed they were going to be perfect, but life is never perfect.

Even though I love my kids dearly, I know their faults just like I have my own. My expectations of them was as expected from a new parent. We don't create life in hopes it's mediocre, average, or even slightly above average. We create life in hopes it's the best, better than all other life, and everyone will worship what we created. Even Superman can't live up to those expectations. Our hype is misunderstood by ourselves and by others. No wonder we always feel let down and depressed by it.

There are days I just sit with my kids and think about them and what I thought they were going to be like. I think about my list and how the only problem with it was me. The feeling of creating life is intoxicating. When I made the list I was drunk on my own life not the one I created. I don't ever regret being overly hyped about having children, it was the best feeling in the world. I regret feeling disappointed by the expectations of everybody else. I should've never sought their approval and loved my kids for who they were not who society expected them to be. To this day I believe my kids are perfectly who they want to be and that's perfectly ok with me. I will love them forever.

Wednesday, February 25, 2015

Project Scarybooster

Yesterday, I was sitting in my Dragon Bone computer chair thinking. I've had this Thorn in my side that's been causing me Sarrow if my memory serves me right. I'm not sure because I forgot. My chair didn't help me remember, but we know the Angry Chair pisses Alice off until she throws Dirt in my eyes. Enough with these Games of Thrones, somebody is bound to get hurt or worse. I know you're on the edge of your own seat waiting to find out what Project Scarybooster is...

PROJECT SCARYBOOSTER:

As I said before, I was pissed off sitting in my uncomfortable chair waiting to die when I thought of this idea. An idea so grand I can't pull it off. Ultimately, this idea is going to fail no matter what. Obviously, I don't want it to fail because if I did I wouldn't tell you so I could fail in my head. Deep down inside me I want to do something in my life that wins me praise from my daddy. I just need a hug before I die. Project Scarybooster is that hug I sorely need. You can help me... Maybe.

The other day a friend of mine wrote a post on Facebook about how the person in front of her bought her coffee at Starbucks. Without even knowing my friend a stranger was nice enough to buy her a cup of coffee not even knowing how much she spent. That type of thing has never happened to me, you know "pay it forward". It's a karma, soul massaging, act of kindness. Even if my friend was a mass murderer, she got a free cup of coffee. How would you feel buying a murderer a $5 cup of coffee? I know, chances are my friend isn't a murderer, but she could be.

Thinking about the succulent coffee my friend got for free pissed me off more. Why don't I ever get free shit? Why am I a loser? Why did my parents chain me to the basement wall and feed me dog food for 6 years? Then all the answers came crashing down on me, I'm selfish! I expect to be handed free stuff just because I'm naturally amazing. As I get older, I'm getting uglier and people don't lick my boots anymore. I need to change my ways and do something out of the kindness of my heart.

That's where Project Scarybooster comes in. For the next couple days, weeks or hours, I'm going to search for a person I don't know. A person I've never talked to before in my life. A person that has never heard of Scarybooster (which might be really hard), and buy a game for them.

I believe I'll go to heaven for this. No... Lol. I believe I'll make someone happy for a little bit. That's good enough for me. So, let Project Scarybooster begin...

Crowfall on Kickstarter

I'm a 40 year old gamer. I've lost all faith in games and their overly hyped communities. My beloved hobby is depressing.

The older I get, the more I feel like a hermit when it comes to gaming. Even though I love playing MMOs, I want less interaction with the community. I'm not sure if it's them or me. I just don't want to deal with the people that play these games anymore.

Last night I was in a raid and the main tank started cursing at the off-tank for pulling aggro. Not just F-bombs, but C, B, S, L, M, N, O, P-bombs. All in CAPS. Was he wrong to put the off-tank in his place? No not really. Was he wrong to use the Urban Dictionary to get his point across? Yup! Nobody cares anymore, though. The gaming community is filled with people that have no understanding of empathy because there are no repercussions. Gaming and the Internet are in a sad, sad state.

Yesterday, I backed a new MMO due out in 2017ish, Crowfall. If I'm so depressed about the gaming community why did I put a new MMO to my head loaded? Crowfall is a PvP-centric game after all and that brings ALL the hateful gamers out of the woodwork. Why would I put myself through this again? Is Crowfall that awesome I can forget the pain it will being? What is wrong with me?

Sadly, I've lost my faith in game communities. It's one of the main reasons my blogging has slowed down. I'm just not passionate about writing about a subject that brings me pain. I'm sick of not having faith in my hobby. I love writing and I love the friends I've made over the years through gaming. I needed a leap of faith. I need Crowfall to catch me.

Back when I first started blogging about MMOs, the community was amazing. There were jerks, but overall people were excited to share their fun stories through blog posts. 6ish years later, most of those positive bloggers are exactly where I'm at or have given up all faith. Every year I see more and more positive bloggers quitting to get away from the hate. For some reason hate sells better and those of us that refuse to hate on our blogs, we wave the White Flag. I'm not going to give up without a fight!

Recently, a great blogger and a person I consider a good friend (through Internet proximity), quit his main gaming blog. He is an amazing writer and had the best insight into gaming, but he was a good guy. The years of hate finally crushed his shoulders and he closed down his blog. I feel for him because I want to do the same thing everyday. I've stopped posting because I keep telling myself, "what's the point?" I haven't found one yet. I really don't think Crowfall is the answer, but it's worth a try.

Let's get this clear, I'm not a fan site and I doubt I'll post anything about Crowfall this year. Well, unless I make fun of them. I'm not the guy Crowfall wants on their link-love rounds. I'm not an ass kisser. I'm not going on their forums... Ever. I'm not going to write or draw fan fiction... Ever. Shoot, I don't even kniw anything about the game except you can blow shit up. I like that. So why Crowfall?

Like I said, I need faith back into gaming and Crowfall needed my -money- faith. I'm sick of feeling down about MMOs. My writing invigorates me and I need the "Crowfall's" in my life.

Tuesday, February 24, 2015