the point

May 23, 2001, 02:35 pm

Lately, I've been living in routine. I come home from work and then I start playing videogames. There are many other things that I could be doing and most of these things would be considered “productive”.

I've convinced myself that playing these videogames is both productive and necessary.

For example, I won't be able to concentrate on stuff while I know that I have failed in unlocking all the cheats in Tony Hawk Pro Skater 2. And I just know I'm going to sleep better at night after I've finished Shenmue (I'm on the third disc now, so it shouldn't be long). At least these games have endpoints. Places where I can say, “I've beaten it. I got all the gaps in Tony Hawk.... I revenged my father's death in Shenmue.”

But then I had to go and buy Phantasy Star Online which has no end. No sense of closure. I just started playing it last night and it's already owning me...

It's a good thing I don't have a girlfriend, or I wouldn't be able to “invest” my time like this. Hell, I'm already neglecting my friends as it is, let alone someone who I'm supposed to be superclose to. Yeah, it would be awesome to have someone to hangout with and exchange massages and whatnot, but I'm pretty happy with my life now.

At times, I feel overwhelmed by everything; there are too many books to read, too many songs to learn and listen to, too many videogames to play, too many programs I want to write. And not enough time to do anything. Ugh. I wish I could just pause time for a couple weeks where I could spend time exercizing and getting enough sleep and learning to feed myself well. That's what I need: time in the middle of nowhere, with a good internet connection, a computer, a couple of guitars, a nice stereo and tv...

It's never going to happen. :)

Since I've been in a sharing mood lately, I figured it would be appropriate to share one of my favorite poems...

The Point

by Bryan O'Sullivan
Cult of the Dead Cow, #300

you could spend an hour counting the petals in a flower
it might take you a year to count the veins in each petal
if you spent ten lifetimes, maybe you could count its cells

but you'd have completely missed the point
you fuckhead