A couple days later I was there again, looking at the flashing page. This time, however, I felt less concerned about it. It didn’t feel as if the poem was going in any direction whatsoever and was a cheap ploy. I didn’t trash the page however and left it in the poetry section of my files. I didn’t really feel like writing.
I was in my basement listening to music off my chromecast with my computer on my lap. I was looking at my computer with a funny smile. It was such a goofy looking set-up to anyone who knew anything about computers. The biggest of which was that I used an external keyboard to type instead of my regular keyboard. People must have thought I was just “Extra” as they called it, but the truth is that I once spilled coffee on my keyboard.
I come off as this cool, dark, kinda kid I like to think, but I’m really more of a clutz. I was desperate to change up my room at home and was moving tables around when the table my computer and freshly-and expertly- made espresso fell onto my keyboard. When I cleaned up the mess and saw it was dead, Oh was I pissed. I stomped around the house steaming mad and went for a cigarette.
While smoking that cigarette I stopped feeling mad and felt a lot sadder really. It was my own idiocy that got me put in that position. I slumped down all hopeless like. I think it was cold as fuck back then. That’s when I lived with my parents in Orangeville.
I suppose if anyone out-right told me it looked dumb I would tell them the truth; that I actually needed this keyboard. I also thought a lot of people probably thought it was dumb and wouldn’t bother to ask.
A new indicator box popped up on my screen.
“ALIENWARE BATTERY WARNING” it read.
I should also mention my computer is an Alienware which is supposed to be good or flashy or some-shit, but the funny thing was that I had my charger plugged in. I clicked on the box and then grimaced.
My internal battery was becoming incapable of running my computer. I sighed and went out for a cigarette taking my IPad and it’s little attachable keyboard. On my walk, I wondered if the universe does send signs, the question is more what do they mean?
Laptop got fucked once, check. Laptop getting fucked again, check. What’s wrong with my laptop? Should I be a minimalist and only type on this IPad? I thought if anything it would be tied to my gaming.
I play a ludicrous amount of games and spend many hours doing so. Primarily I only play three main games at a time. Right now the most time-consuming is League of Legends which is a highly competitive skill based game that requires an in-depth knowledge of mechanics to be good. Second, is World of Warcraft which I’m sure you all know. If you don’t, it’s a fantasy game where you make a character and level them gaining new abilities along the way. Lastly, there is Overwatch and Fallout 4. I combine them in the same category as I play them both for around the same amount of time. Both games are sci-fi shooters with one being competitive and the other being role-playing.
After I hit my first popper I heaved for a breath. Damn, I thought. My lungs wheezed and boy did I regret ever starting smoking.
I suppose my real problem is addiction in general. I’m addicted to smoking, cigarettes, and tobacco (to be honest for the last two days I’ve had two cigarettes which is a huge improvement for me.) video games, and escapism of any kind really. I love media and like the many other millennials, I consume it on mass.
My media content is very specific and different to some millennials, and rarely changes from my usual genres of comic books, art, writing, news, and musicians I like and at that moment in time I didn’t want to observe the media, I didn’t want any news on the strike because at the point we are now, both news is bad news. If we go back to school we get hit by assignments and risk of failure, if the strike lasts longer then I’m stuck doing the job I hate. I hit another popper.