I’m in the last 100 pages of Kushiel’s Mercy right now. Decided to go on my iPhone to look up a word in the dictionary; BAD IDEA. I also decided to check my email and facebook…
The intensity of my concentration and mental absorption never cease to awe me. Just by reading a couple new emails I felt mental jolt, bringing me back to the world I physically live in. Oh books.
I’m coming to another end to a life-changing book series. It’s always these fantasy tomes that get my spine all knotted up. As the last 100 pages get closer of the sixth and final 800-paged book, my internal hearthrobbing (ie. mental cringing and squirming) starts. It’s almost over. How does one let go and say goodbye to something that has provided them unconditional love for so many years - especially throughout the major years of their growth?
As bad as it gets, however, I know it’ll never be as painful as the end of Harry Potter. I don’t believe I’ll encounter a closure as great as that with HP (and I do not rue the day), but still… Kushiel’s Legacy comes in a close second. As bad as it won’t get, though… it’s still painful to say goodbye to the characters you’ve lived with for so long, characters you know as well as your own limbs and body parts… knowing that they’ll live happily ever after, and you unsure of your own destiny.
Goodbye in advanced, Phèdre, Joscelin, Imriel, Melisande… your memory lies waaay beyond the 4800 pages you’ve been ensorceled in.
Does the way one plays games depict some ounce of how they carry out tasks in real life? I grew up very secluded from the gaming world; I was all about playing with board games, real dolls, and just the good old “hardcopy” stuff, if you know what I mean.
Just because I don’t play a lot of video games doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy them, though. But I find them so difficult; I don’t think I’ve ever fully completed a whole “story” game of any sort. Which brings me to the point of this post.
Anytime I find myself terribly challenged (in a game), I tend to just give up. In essence, it’s quite silly because I compare myself to regular gamers who are able to whiff through levels I’ve never dreamt of, but does that reflect what I do in real life?
It may. It may not. But I think it depends on a task’s degree of seriousness or “effect” factor; that is, how important and relevant it is to me.
A friend of mine once said “you have no life” when I told him I don’t play games. At the time, which was quite some time ago, I really felt offended. But now that my opinions and thoughts about life are more established, I’m happy to say that maybe it’s the gamers who don’t have a life. I mean, I try to live mine while they try to strand themselves in alternate universes.
It’s been such a beautiful, complete, and fulfilling summer. A summer of healing, and scabbing, and understanding. A summer of change, and stillness, and plans. A summer of knowledge, of true hate, of true passion. It’s been such a beautiful, complete, and fulfilling summer.