Before I delve into this article, I would like to apologize. To the few people who actively follow me, I was away for a week without a computer, hopping around the country for my brother's college tours. I didn't have a computer, and thus I didn't post anything. Oh yeah, and before you ask, yes, going without a computer for a full week is as terrifyingly barbaric as it sounds.
Within the next few days, I WILL be posting a new interview and hopefully some more stuff. I apologize for the inconsistencies, but on to the article at hand!
I was walking around as per usual, talking to my villagers. Then, I got a request from Angus, otherwise known as the guy I frequently send frequent letters to, all of which ask for his permission to eat him. Usually, I get normal-ish requests along the lines of "I need new furniture!" or "Catch me a crappy fish that would take me literally five seconds but I'm too lazy, so here's a lame shirt!,", but Angus thre me a curveball. He wanted me to bring him a Goliath Beetle, aka a relatively hard-to-obtain bug found rarely on palm trees. I agreed.
Then, I thought to myself, "I'll write the request on my hand so I can figure it out later!" After all, at 11 PM, the last thing you want to do is hop on a ship, catch a bug, hop back on the ship, hunt him down, and give him the bug.
I ended up doing it, inevitably, but I thought about it a lot more. Was my idea to write on the palm of my hand a tad bit ridiculous? Had I been holding Animal Crossing a little bit too seriously in my life to even consider bringing it into the real world? The answer, in my opinion, was yes.
In fact, I hold AC:NL at an unhealthily high level. I'm not going to go on a rant about how video games have mentally deteriorated my mind or ruined my ability to properly prioritize, but I think it's fair to say it was a tad bit ridiculous to mourn when my favorite villager moved out after two years. (Fly on, Cranston.) After all, this, in my opinion, was more important than my own well-being; if not at least for a moment, a mess of pixels became more important than anything else to a point where I reserved it on my left palm.
I feel that the game has penetrated my heart to such an extant that I hold it as dearly as things with real tangibility, or at least did so for a split second.
There's no denying how heavily video games can influence people's lives nowadays, and I'm sure that my little conundrum seems relatively light compared to other scenarios, but it still bothers me that I chose to catch a virtual beetle for a virtual cow instead of cater to my own necessities. (Okay, so admittedly it's not that dramatic, but it sounds better, okay? Shaddup.)
In conclusion: I definitely wont stop playing video games anytime soon (thanks, unhealthy addiction!), but I'm gonna need to cater to myself a smidgen more than a nonexistent cow.