Life has gotten busy. Busy, busy, busy.
Almost everything I do, I do fast. Speed has become necessary if you want to function in a rapidly accelerating modern world.
There is so much content, so much to do, read, watch, see, experience, talk about, blog about, and tweet about that there is less and less time to actually savour the joy of life. Games haven’t gotten worse at entertaining us, we’ve become terrible at appreciating them. There’s a reason we remember our childhood games so fondly. We spent hours playing them, exploring their secrets and absorbing every byte of entertainment.
That was only a portion of our experience. For every game of Mortal Kombat I played, I spent hours more in wide-eyed, imagination fueled excitement, creating worlds and scenes in my head. I acted out fantasies with my brother with sticks and blankets for capes. I dreamed of the world with me in it, at the center of it, the most important part of it.
Even as a child, gaming wasn’t only about what there was – it was about all it could be.
Then I hit puberty. I grew up. I started using shaving cream to actually shave instead of spraying it into my hands and squelching it between my fingers. I matured, and with maturity sadly comes the death of innocence.