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I’ve been feeling like shit lately. Just really down on life in general. So, in dire need of self-confidence, here’s a risque photo I took today:
Thank you Nintendo for letting me use your product for this.
You would think my butt was bigger, given how I spend so much time sitting on it.
I have been hella procrastinating on this project, lately. I tell myself that I’m just in that part of design where I play a bunch of other games and
steal their ideas analyze their strengths. While I have been doing that (I bought Oblivion and Dragon Age last week, and have been mentally taking notes on what I like and don’t like), it’s just an excuse to goof off, really. I just haven’t been up to it, is all. Mostly due to a massive lack of creativity I’ve been feeling lately.
Tonight, though, I got back into the thick of things. The reason being is that I’m just tired of the way things are. After these last couple of months of bull shit (see last post) silencing tactics by bigoted turds climbing out of the toilet that is The Internet, the one thing the world absolutely needs right now is more “undesirables” making games. My big gay ass is back into map making, dialogue writing, and tedious difficulty testing.
Scared, confused children screaming and throwing a temper tantrum over minorities “pushing an agenda” aka “existing” and realizing that they are nothing more than dinosaurs of a dark age on the verge of collapse going out in one last violent outburst that they think is a blaze of glory, but is really just an impotent whimper, exposing their shitty, maggot-ridden underside to an unknowing public in the process.
Meanwhile, game sites like IGN and Gamespot are more concerned with bringing us the hot new takes on the LittleBigPlanet 3 creative suite than they are with people in their own industry who could very well die before this is over. That’s probably what will happen! I don’t want it to happen, and I hope that I’m wrong, but I can’t shake the feeling that someone will die simply because Eron Gjoni is a fucking loser who can’t handle getting dumped, and decided to stroke the already bright flames of misogyny in video games as a form of psychopathic revenge. The only “intimacy” that dickless motherfucker needs in his life is to get intimate with the inside of a jail cell. Him and all the other Gamer Gate spokesmen out to ruin lives because they’re so full of their own shit that they look at themselves, as “gamers,” as an oppressed minority. Of course, that is only wishful thinking. They’ll be innocent in a court of law, and you can’t really punish someone in a court of morality.
Once this is all over, all these worthless cavemen grunting about social justice warriors and 7.5’s and shit will just go right on back to their games, like nothing ever happened. Because that’s all this is to them: a game, with a clear winner and a clear loser. They’ll think nothing of the lives ruined, relationships strained, careers ended; just whether or not they “won.” Zoe Quinn might as well be Sephiroth to these assholes. And the leaders of this industry, the people with the loudest voices, simply do not give a fuck. Or they do, and side with the terrorists, the bigots, and the other rancid shitstains of humanity that this world will hopefully leave behind.
Let me make something very clear: “Gamers” are not a minority. They are not a race. They are not a gender. They are not a sexual orientation. They are not a religion. They are the label given to those who consume a form of media. Skinheads will not wait outside a club so they can corner you in a dark alley and practice field goals on your face because you like Halo. You will never be followed around by overzealous security staff at a convenience store because of your choice of dress was a Sonic the Hedgehog t-shirt. The President of the United States will never go on television and define marriage as a union between two people who think Street Fighter II sucks. Mike Brown was not killed by a corrupt cop because of his XBox Live Gamerscore.
Comedians on Twitter calling you a pissbaby is not oppression. Anita Sarkeesian disabling YouTube comments from people who literally want to kill her is not oppression. Brianna Wu retweeting a meme someone else made is not oppression.
But the bullshit that you’re pulling in the name of ethics? Of journalistic integrity? THAT is oppression!
I had a very long Skype conversation with someone tonight. No, this was not a conversation about depression, like you may have assumed. It was just general chitchat with someone I haven’t spoken to in a year or so. It was weird, because it felt less like a chat and more of a debate. A debate with myself. At least, myself from about two years ago, when I was an obnoxious shitheel saying and doing stupid shit. I didn’t get mad at this guy or anything (and he wasn’t particularly bad, just doing the “mental gymnastics to find ways to justify people being shitty” thing tha I’ve been guilty of), I just held my (digital) tongue.
I’d like to think that I’ve spent the last month and a half to two months growing up a little bit, and finally getting that level of maturity that a 28 year old is supposed to have. But that’s not true.
If you haven’t been following the comment threads on my posts, I reinstalled Skype for people who are struggling with their problems, and feel the need to vent, just so they can have someone to talk to when they feel like nobody else will listen. A way for you, the reader, to feel better. And maybe a way for me to feel better, knowing that we’re not alone in our day-to-day emotional struggles. This offer is still open; my ironic as hell Skype handle is on the sidebar over there. But I’ve also been reminded tonight why I still haven’t grown up.
A couple months back, an online friend of mine was going through his own battle with depression and having suicidal thoughts. I didn’t feel as though he was being serious, though, and got pissed off at him. I thought that using humor while openly discussing suicide felt like an insult (it also happened to occur when I was flipping the fuck out over completely unrelated issues and I irresponsibly lumped this is with them), rather than just him deflecting his emotions. I should’ve taken what he said seriously, especially since nobody else did. Instead, I was no better than the people who ignored him, and stopped talking to him for a while. Luckily, he’s alive and getting the help he needs. But it could have been so much worse: What kind of asshole am I, to be telling people that I’m willing to hear them out on their problems, and then turn around and tell someone else who’s hurting to fuck off?
I apologized to this guy tonight. Whether or not he accepts is up to him. He doesn’t owe me anything, and is well within his right to tell me off at any time. Regardless, I’ll have that guilt and that heavy conscience on me for a very long time.
I’ve begun posting on Tumblr again. This does not mean that I’m going back to not updating this blog like I’ve been guilty of in the past. The main reason I mention this is because I made an apology post. It was a post apologizing (duh) for all the really fucked up, immature, offensive “jokes” that I made over the years that I now wholly regret. I’m bringing all this up because things like that is my form of self-harm.
I’ve never been the kind of depressed person who cuts themselves, or hurts themselves in other physical ways. It’s just never something I’ve been into. Now, flipping right the hell out and alienating those around me? That’s right up my fucked-up alley. Saying and doing things that gets people to leave me alone is how I lash out. It’s cost me a lot, socially and emotionally, and I’m certainly not proud of myself whenever I do this. Going online and making an ass out of myself on a public platform fits perfectly into this. Making offensive remarks about people and groups, making light of other people’s tragedies, being an aggravating jerk who is hard to deal with on any level is the result of my illness. I can’t cope with it alone, and ironically enough, I can’t cope with other people wanting to get involved. So I push them away, which hurts me. And that’s the kind of pain my mind wants to put me through.
It is extremely unhealthy, and I hate it. But I also find it hard to help myself. Sure, I say I’m sorry now, but who is to say that in a few months, I’m not going right on back to telling everyone to fuck off? I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.
I haven’t been posting the last couple of days. Not because I’ve been too busy with Smash , although I totally have been. I’m actually been starting a new project in Sword of Moonlight. Something separate from the big group project I’ve been on this whole time.
I’m working on a game that is based entirely around exploration, talking to other people, maybe doing a little puzzle solving. No combat or monsters or anything like that. A short, but sweet, adventure.
Unfortunately, progress is really slow. Not because of Smash, but because I’ve been trying really hard to find graphics that move away from the medieval fantasy look, for something a little more modern. Problem? No such graphics exist. And, as you’ve seen in the past, I cannot draw a straight line on a piece of graph paper; 3D modelling is most definitely not in the cards for me. So I’ll probably end up having to use the swords and sorcery look after all.
In a completely inappropriate follow-up to last night’s post, I’m just going to throw up a photo of a nude Link cosplayer (RIP Frank Wolf) and ask…
Update: I did not get Smash today. My dog had a tummy ache, so I’m taking care of her. Some things are more important than Nintendo.
It may or may not be apparent, after all this time and all these posts and works (I’m not sure if I’ve ever explicitly put this out there), but I have problems with depression. It’s something I never really talk about, for a number of reasons. A number of excuses, more like. Mostly because I feel like I’m just another voice in an echo chamber, or fearing that I’ll turn into some whiny fuckhead and wanting to punch my own stupid face. It’s why I always post about stupid video games and make jokes about toilets and 69 and shit. It just seems easier to make lame jokes and put on that happy face like everything is cool, rather than just facing my problems, or even just writing them down somewhere (like here).
The reason I’m writing this now is because I’ve spent the last couple of weeks hearing about people being suicidal, and some people going through with it. I don’t know any of these people. I’ve never met them and I probably never will. But whenever I see or hear something like “Does anyone know [internet person's] contact info? This could be life-or-death here!” and/or “RIP [Person's name]” followed by a link to a suicide prevention hotline, I get that terrible feeling of dread that tingles the back of your head. Sure, there’s that general sense of empathy over the loss of someone, even if I have no idea who they are. But then there’s that other reality check of a gutpunch that hurts worse than any fight I’ve ever been in: that could have been me.
With luck, that will never be me. I know that are people out there who be absolutely destroyed if I were gone, as narcissistic as that may sound. That no matter how bad my internal monologue may be, no matter how hard it is to get up in the morning, or how hard it is to sleep at night, no matter how many times my sub-conscious likes to point out how much of a total fuck up I am; that nobody reads my terrible stories, laughs at my lame dad jokes, or plays my shitty games because they’re bad and I’m even worse, I feel like I’m doing a disservice to people if I just say “fuck it” and end everything.
But there is one thing I plan to do: Not be a coward hiding behind irony and bad jokes, and put this stuff out there more often. Maybe just to show folks that they’re not alone? I don’t know. I’m not sure if I have that level of reach. I suppose it couldn’t hurt to try, though.
I haven’t done a whole lot lately, which is why my updates are either shit I wrote years ago, or talking about redesigning the look of this site. Like, I can’t really make a good post about how the last few days have been me either writing game dialogue, jackin’ it, explaining a Simpsons reference to a model, or playing Link’s Awakening and Majora’s Mask (for research) with the sound off, listening to moody indie music or an episode of the Attitude Era Podcast instead. It’s fine to live those events, but dull as shit to read about.
Sorry. I’ll try to make something or do a music post or whatever to break up the monotony.