I honestly think I’m playing too much Modern Warfare 2, lately. Three, four, maybe five hours straight, most evenings and sometimes for an hour or two in the afternoon while the baby has his nap. I keep telling myself it’s just so that I can level up quickly because I’ve prestiged again and I’m missing my ACR, but that’s just an excuse, and there’ll be another excuse once I’ve unlocked every weapon and perk possible. Because as long as I’m running around shooting at someone with something, I’m happy… or am I?
It’s just not the same, anymore. It’s not like it was in the beginning. I’ve over indulged. The excitement has faded, the shine has worn away; I’m barely trying anymore. I’m running and running; down corridors, through trees and past buildings, stopping, firing and running again. I’m searching for something and I’m being left unsatisfied. I’m chasing the dragon. It’s time for me to move on.
I’ve thought about trading them in. But I never trade, they’re my games. I pondered taking a break. For a week or a month, and saying so in this blog so that I couldn’t go back on it. But the more I try to put it into words the more I just want to give up typing and go play the game. My shooty sense is tingling. The lobby music slips into my head. I close my eyes and imagine white hot images of scurrying enemies, desperately fleeing to cover. I can almost hear the cries of fallen noobs, drawing me in, like a shark to a drop of blood. There’s no point trying to deny it, I’ve been consumed. There’s only one thing that can save me now:
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