I am 30 years old. I live at home with my mother and work full time, in a job I don't like, to earn money for a hobby that some people find worrying for a grown man of my age. I'm currently single after a few failed relationships. I have a crooked nose, wear thick black framed glasses and I am pretty shy. Looking from the outside in, I should pity me.

But I don't. Why would I?

I have been raised, surrounded with fascinating technology. Between the years of my first Spectrum CPC 464, to my XBOX One, I have spent countless hours in a smokey arcade hall watching other people attack a high score table. I have had to trade my game collection for a poor deal in the local swap shop, just to get that over-hyped gem the latest Amiga Format wouldn't stop gushing over. I have seen the rise and fall of SEGA, the beginning of Sony's unexpected rampage, the last whimper from the gaming gods at Atari! I feel included and connected to something amazing that most people ignore and dismiss as a childish fad.

I've such a fun and exciting hobby that dates back to my infant years, and my passion for it is still as strong as ever to this very day. Not many people have that warm fuzzy happiness in their lives.

Do you know what?

I think I pity them.