1998

It's the last year I could truly say I had any friends that cared as much about me, as Giantbomb has cared about Ryan. I've moved so many times, trapped in a suffocating, toxic home life. I buried my mind as deep into myself as I could. I couldn't connect with anyone anymore and the thought of putting forth the effort to embrace another human being was, in a way, exhausting. Throughout the years I have come close to making real connections (friendship), but they always left just like I did. Years of trudging through mud tires you. Now, I always considered myself introverted, but not to the point of being completely shut off to the outside world. I've never shared any of this before. Not even to family members. I've always been known to my family as the "independent one," the one that was almost impossible to get a hold of, and when you did, you got nothing out of me. I just wanted to get away and "relax" from the drama that unfolded around me. I kept a distance from everyone I could, because if I didn't, they would know the truth. The truth being, there was nothing to me, no joy, memories, life.

I had my gaming. I had my music. I could read. It occupied many lonely weekends. Watching other people together and enjoying themselves in the process was perplexing. How does it seem so easy to for them? And yet, distant to me? I figured it was my surroundings. I quit jobs because I just couldn't find those people. The ones who got you. The ones that would instantly shine a light in this fucking mud hole.

Where are these people I wish to care about located in this world?

Exhausted yet again.

And yet again that stray cat comes along and you feed it...

So here now it stays, and just like the nodding donkeys purging crude in oil fields, you seesaw between thinking it's all your fault, you have control; then thinking it's not entirely you, and maybe you were never in control. I'm twenty-seven years old and I'm getting real tired of this shit. I'm writing this now because I've normalized over the past day or so. These lows are getting more erratic and slogging through this over the years has chipped away too much. I enjoy my alone time, but not to the point of permanence. I know I'm personable, but I keep too much to myself. My hope is not to assert myself more, but assert myself into the right situation. Sorry if this seems jumbled, I feel like I have more to say, but I get lost inside quickly. Organization of thoughts is a tedious process. I've always loved Giantbomb and its community. Maybe its time for me to embrace that.

Peace, Ryan.

Wow, its been a long time since I posted anything on this website. Anyway, I will try to keep this short and sweet. I'm looking for some roommates to share a duplex with me in Agawam, MA. I have some other people interested, but I figure what better roommates than other giant bombers. I realize the chances of finding someone are very slim here, but why not give it a shot. Hell, maybe I'll actually be more active in the giant bomb community this time around.

So, I'm browsing various vidja game sites when I come across this. Of course, the typical comments from gamers came flooding in much to my chagrin. I love these typical responses. I guess people should apologize for not being as gifted as some of you at gaming? Games typically have multiple difficulty modes to satisfy just about anyone. An easy mode should be just that. Good on Atlus for addressing the issue. For the rest of you taking difficulty in games way too personally, Atlus still has the other difficulty modes there for you to feel like a "big man" (or whatever the hell that is supposed to mean). Seriously, some people have jobs/life and can't sit in front of a television all day mastering this stuff. Most just want to enjoy the game without wanting to toss their controller at the wall. 
 
So when you go online proudly thumping your chest in disgust on how games these days are "pussifying gamers," and, of course, follow that up with a story on how you totally beat Demon's Souls under an hour while taking five minute breaks in between shoving your face with Cheetos and refilling on Mountain Dew as your mom yells at you to take out the trash. Guess what? Nobody is impressed. It just makes you look like a douche.