Showing posts with label denial. Show all posts
Showing posts with label denial. Show all posts

Friday, 16 April 2010

Post-Pokemon Remorse


A fair amount of the time, it feels as if I am able to step out of my body and observe my own behaviour as an onlooker. The problem is, no matter how much or how loudly I scream at myself to stop, it always falls on deaf ears. It happened again yesterday: I bought Pokemon Soul Silver for my DS and I don't know why I allowed it to happen.

I genuinely thought it was a great idea at the time - it would be the perfect time-sink to tide me over until Super Street Fighter 4 and it was all nice and pretty and colourful. I even argued with my manager over it - he said he'd lost respect for me after buying it. I responded by calling him a closet homo and insisted that by playing Pokemon I displayed just how comfortable I was with both my masculinity AND my sexuality. His protests only strengthened my resolve - leading to me buying my game in the loudest, proudest fashion possible.

As soon as I boarded the bus home the remorse began to set in. The first stage was shame. I felt dirty; I'm supposed to be a 25 year old grown man, what the fuck am I doing playing Pokemon? I convinced myself that it was justified by being part of a generation whose 30-somethings even fap over cartoons of transforming robots. I still hid it in a bag, under my arm, clinging onto it with sweaty palms for fear of it falling out and exposing a horrible truth to the teenage girls behind me. They may not have noticed my receding hairline, now if I can just keep Pokemon out of their sight, one of them may dream of getting fucked by the dude on the bus with that awesome jacket with the eyeball patch. I am a pathetic loser.

I played it later on that evening. In four minute installments. This was all I could take. The game is unbearably shit. The eight year old inside me died a long time ago and my inner child is now about 13 and ready to tear shit up at a moment's notice. I want to smash the fuck out of things and listen to Pantera, I want to use fuck as an adjective more than is humanly necessary not take faggy little animals on walks and get them to fight other faggy little animals in tall grass. I just can't make myself do it: I have to admit defeat.

My boss was right the whole time. It's a dumb game that is very well designed...FOR CHILDREN. As childish as I am, I cannot make myself regress this much, no matter how much I want to. He may have lost respect for me, but nowhere near as much as I have lost for myself. I have now sold the game to my girlfriend. It's gone.

I'd like to think that I'll learn something from this, but unfortunately, I very much doubt that I will. Most likely, I am doomed to make these sort of mistakes for eternity, leaving my girlfriend to pick up the pieces and broadcasting my misery to you. You've been warned.

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