It’s waking up at 1 AM, milling about on the computer for two hours, finding a stream of a game with amazing artwork, feeling soft and connected to it. That golden feeling, softness. It ending, and realizing I have no one to share anything with. My thoughts, feelings. My mother in her room. I can’t talk to her, I don’t know why. She would probably be open but I just can’t talk to her. I don’t have any friends, I don’t want to bother Nick, he gets enough from me as-is.

Father keeps pestering me about stimulus checks. Did I get $600 from last year? Did I get x from this year? Stupid stupid annoying stop stop stop!

Octopath Traveler was the game in question. Beautiful artwork, eye candy, makes the game such a more pleasant experience. The atmosphere comes from the art. And all they had to do for character design was hire a pixel artist! So easy. Too easy.

So here I stand, screaming into the void, screaming I AM ALONE, and wondering when the echoes will traverse the universe and come round the other end and hit me in the back from behind. Will I hear my own voice behind me? Will time settle into a cyclical…

I don’t know.

I’m at a loss for words.

Modern society is isolating and stifling.

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