Hardcore Gamer: Nowadays, I like to bring my guitar to the park. It makes me feel like I’m one with the wind, or something. I sit on whatever bench is closest to a group of attractive girls (either walking their pets, or watching their kids be ogled by childless weirdos) and I start strumming; G major, C Major, G major, D Major. They can’t tell that I’m terrible, because I have a handlebar mustache and a UCLA trucker hat — UCLA being a school I have never attended. I wait for them to notice me before I take a sip of my Fiji water and set my guitar down. I tip my over-sized beanie to the prettiest of the bunch, place my Ray Bans back in their faux-leather case, and tuck my seashell necklace into my vintage flannel button down. I’m a guitarist at last. Finally, a way to express those poetic thoughts that have long been too complex for translation.