At least I don't think I'm insane, and I don't think other people are. I'm hoping that at least that qualifies me as not really crazy. I know I have my own personal follies, however, and I know that I flirt with madness more often than I want to. But all in all, I'm still grateful to not be crazy and not complain about being a sick or spiteful man (although I am both at times). I know, however, that I have problems. Problems that I do not want to recognize in me, but problems I know that exist. It probably must be my childhood coming back to haunt me, and probably some desires that have been unsatiated.

You see, I want a twenty-seven year old handheld console. I want to play with it. The problem is, it's very rare and possesses a hefty price tag. I know that stuff like the PSP and the Nintendo DS exist, but I want to play a stupid old game. Why? Well, aside from the fact that it was the first system in color with interchangeable cartridges, I really, really just want to see it at work. I think I don't really have to own it. I think I just have to see the gameplay for myself to disregard it as one of my more stupid whims. The problem is, I can't. Aside from the fact that practically no one has it, those people who did have it don't have it anymore, don't have a working unit, or are in the middle of moving their stuff despite having a working system. This is disregarding the 'screen rot' that plagued the handheld console that I want.

'Screen rot' is just an apt term for something that happens to old systems with LCD displays. In case you don't know what an LCD is, it's what can be seen in your calculators. It's also what's in the Chinese brick games that still have some popularity nowadays. Back then, the technology wasn't very efficient so the liquid bled out because it wasn't sequestered properly and as a result that game would no longer play. It's particularly evident in the oldest handheld systems, of which the Palmtex Super Micro, the console that I want, suffers from. It's probably the reason the system barely comes up even in eBay, purportedly the world's largest garage sale. To make things worse, I also only want to see one game in action, which is React Attack. I know the gameplay couldn't have been advanced and it most probably would have been repetitive but I was so interested with the blurb behind the cartridge that I just felt I had to see it in action. Stupid, I know. Sick, I know. But I'm writing this because I have no one else to talk about stuff like this. I only write because most people don't like the stuff I like. I don't like drinking, I'm ignorant about sex and women and I don't like cars. While I do like basketball I'm not very good at it.

I love whining, don't I? But it's better than whining in real life, and I don't think I'm some emotional goth person who just wants to die every second of their lives. That's just pathetic. While I know I'm pathetic, that's just worse, feeling that the world hates you and feeling that it's all right to die just because of that. It makes me feel that all they really need is attention, and that's not something I want to bring to my problem. What I really want is just a glimpse of what I desire, just a sight of reality that will destroy whatever preconceptions I have with what I think I want. Because our wants are really just our own desires manifesting in either things or people and deforming as well as defiling them. When we extirpate these assumptions and preconceptions we are often left with what really exists, and it does not please us as much as we expected it to please us. Reality is the crystal clear water that is dissimulated by the fog of imagination and desire. Once we break through that fog we see things as they really are and if they're things that we want they're not as majestic or as grand as we initially expected them to be. I own some video games from the past and while I initially thought they'd be awesome and enduring (to some extent they still are) they're nowhere near what I imagined them to be. They're nowhere near the grandiosity that I expected, which is probably what the subjects who just saw Napoleon for the first time in their lives thought. This is Napoleon? This is our leader? This short, pudgy man? Beneath the veneer of heroism and the grandeur of victory was but a short, pudgy man who was just smart enough to be able to tower over France as its king. It's all arrogance and confidence. 'I'm all confidence,' the bartender said, and it was primarily what differentiated him from the other bartender. The reality was that they were both just bartenders who were decently good at their own jobs. Breaking the illusion is something I aim to get past the puerility of desire, as once it is broken and the mirror shattered we are left with the pieces of reality that will get us by in our everyday lives.