During thanksgiving killing turkeys learned the meaning of player vs. player. Mistaken, I. Mistook the meaning of achievement as achievement. Misunderstood the meaning of process as the struggle to triumph. Kill 40 turkeys. Misfelt victory as triumph over pain.
Standing on the road in Elwynn Forest I came to understand. Feeling sadness in my heart, frustration, disappointment; a frown upon the face. Reflected in my monitor a frown upon the face. 12 turkeys and I lose, 21 turkeys and I lose, 30 turkeys, 39 turkeys, 39 turkeys and I lose lose lose; I realize and it dawns and I see that this sadness and disappointment is how I’m supposed to feel; this sad frustrated look upon my face is your victory.
Victory is you feel bad. Yes, you and you, and you mr. human mage and you ms. gnome warrior. Why do you think I’m following you. Why. Yes, you know why. It’s to kill the turkeys. Kill the turkeys. Kill. Kill. Kill. I no longer have any desire to win. Rather, my winning means you losing. The more you lose the more I win. Waiting and counting. Stalking and prowling. Running ahead and wiping out all the turkeys. Killing. Killing turkeys. I want that sad frustrated look upon your face. That’s the real achievement.
Pain is food. Your pain; my food. Your grief and sorrow flow though me like an electric shock. Hungry. Starving. Greedily I race around the woods killing turkeys. Kill the turkeys before you. Before you.
I look up at the mini map. My Tracker Snacks shows friendly life as little yellow blobs. How quaint. Yellow. Happy. Like a smiley face… a smile that I trash smartly off your face. I switch to my healing spec and put on my mana regen gear and I smile because I understand now that mana causes pain and pain is the source of life; source of my life.
And now it’s time to kill. To wipe off the map every little blob of happy yellow smiley face. It’s time for you to suffer and for me to live. That time. That time.
I run and leap and ride and the moonfire rains from the sky and the moonfire rains from the sky and I am killing every living thing moonfire raining from the sky. I kill the turkeys and the lambs and the cows and pigs; everything that is a little yellow smiley blob on the map that I can target, I kill. To make you sad.
I am rushing down the road between Goldshire and the logging camp to make you sad. I am running down along the river past one farm and another farm and another farm and killing everything with that yellow circle of joy around it to make you sad. You stand there night elf looking around for all the turkeys and there are no turkeys and I know behind your monitor you have a sad frustrated look upon you face. Victory.
I feel good. I feel alive. I suck upon your pain and it feeds me. And it dawns on me that there is no end to these turkeys and there is no end to pain and there is no end to life because so long as I feed upon your pain I live. Immortal.
The text scrolling across the screen tells me Wintergrasp in five minutes and my cheeks turn red and I grin. The grin gets bigger and bigger and threatens to eat my face. All turkeys; all on two legs. Two legs good, so good. Battlegrounds filled with turkeys. An all-you-can eat buffet of pain, a smorgasbord of sorrow. Pixel death but human suffering. Because you care.
I think of myself wallowing in your sorrow, bathing in it, washing myself with tears from your eyes. So good.
Misunderstood, I. Not pixel vs. pixel nor toon vs. toon; player vs. player. Human against human, human mind against human mind seeking one goal: that look upon the face. That sad frustrated angry bitter defeated look upon the face.
My palms sweat; my heart thumps in my chest. No, not thumping….jumping. Jumping for joy! The joy of prowling, the puma jumping from limb to limb inside of me, inside of me this jungle, this wilderness. So near to me this wild heart. Kill the turkeys; feed on suffering; dine on pain.
My fingers are claws on the keyboard.
I feel so alive.
22 hours ago