#virtually_manifest

[y-ve-squared]

Oh hey, I’ve returned to Tumblr...?

Ay, this site’s dead. Or is it? Idk, I’m dead on the inside, so what does that matter?

Anyway, I’m kinda messed up here, and in a way most people could relate to. Imagine this: your spirit is powered by mainly gaming-related stuff, specifically, the quirks that made ‘90s and ‘80s games great. You, that one weirdo, project those aesthetics onto real life. It’s just how you express yourself. You can’t help it. You get this sense of vitality, this vibe, this energy from those quirks. Then you ask yourself “how could I use these quirks to make the world a better place?” So you begin to analyze each and every quirk.

Is it the font? The sound? The color? It’s as if every special effect had its purpose. You see nametags and HP bars floating over people’s heads. Every significant object had some comment or attribute to it. Is the world also a video game? That seems to be a common genre now. But you feel something special in this genre, like, the truth could be found with just the right kind of digging. At this point, this blog has become another rant...

You go through your teenage years having had possibly made a stupid comic or animated video series based on a now bygone meme. You feel you could make something big out of it. So, you “follow your heart”, or whatever they’re calling that.

College happens. A different blog of stories happen. At some point you could have sworn you’ve been sniped by Cupid himself, but you didn’t think much else of it from there. College goes by. Graduate? Drop out? No matter. You trudge on. Various things in life keep you from moving on with your plans with expanding your universe. “My work needs to be heard, but is the world ready?”

Now at a 9-to-5 job and burnt out bepyond recognition. What was I doing? Where was I going? No matter. Trudge on. Shut up and calculate. I just have to figure out my place in the universe. Dream about finding some weird rainbow source. Touch it. Wake up and hear about the n-hundredth mass shooting happening in your home region. What is this nonsense? Is the world doomed? It may be, but nah, I’m saving it. I’m the modern messiah, right? Idk.

Then you begin realizing some things. College? No college? I’ve seen things in different realms, most non-physical. Rant continues. I can’t scream. Something has to do the screaming on my behalf. Oh look, money troubles hit again. Plans? I don’t got none. Drugs? Pssh, who needs them when you’ve figured that everyone’s perpetually tripping balls? Am I losing my mind?

At that age where people expect you to be already married. Flying solo entire existence. Matter of fact, you’ve heard somewhere you don’t need a SO to complete your life. You resonate with that. Easy. Ok, so what the hell is this void? Shut up and calculate. And calculate. And calculate. Back in 3rd grade, those Minute Math sheets are your side dish for breakfast. Today, 4-digit prime factorization in your head. You’re watching Limitless on Netflix.

This void can’t be filled. Scott Pilgrim vs. the World. Best movie. Wizard of Speed and Time. Masterpiece. SVtFoE. Hooked in minutes. What do they have in common? That “thing” that fills your void. But then you feel this dread. Oh no, is “that” the solution to my life’s problems? No matter. Trudge on. Steven Universe. Season 5. Feel something loud yet familiar go off in your soul when Steven and Connie interact. It’s all in my head. Right?...

(end of part one of this rant. I gotta pee. I’ve had a bit to drink...)