Do you know the God of War series on the PlayStation?
It is one of my favorites.
I played all the titles a few times. I played them on the PS2, PS3, PS4. I also played the remastered versions. I have at home two PS3, two PS4 and one PS2.
Why do I have multiple systems?
My "PS4 Pro" & PS3 are connected to my projector in the movie room. The legacy systems (XBOX/XBOX 360/PS2/anothert PS3/PS4) are connected to my 60 inch TV.
Playing on a 100-inch movie screen or a 60-inch monitor is a different experience. It's like going to a movie theater vs. watching a movie at home.
I Skyped with a cute guy from the States. He asked me if it's OK to talk about my brain injury. I hesitated a bit since I don't like to talk about it. It's enough that I have my demons to deal with, especially when I am alone, especially at night.
Eventually, then I told him:
"Sure, what would you like to know?".
"Well, you look fine to me; how did this brain injury affect you?"
So, I have told him about a few things, and when he said, "oh shit," then I stopped.
I am not mad at him that he has asked. He wanted to help; perhaps he wanted to know what to say. It was all done in good heart; I am sure about it.
There was one thing though that I forgot to tell him.
I can no longer play God of War (or any similar titles).
Something with my hand-eye coordination is forever gone. My mind gives the order to my hand, but I can sense a 2-5 seconds delay. It is maddening sometimes. I know I should press the joystick button to avoid the next obstacle or to jump a ledge, but by the time I do it, it's too late.
I started playing "Dante's Inferno" two months ago. It's a similar title. I was hoping that I can finish it.
I got stuck in chap 4. It's a puzzle that involves jumping and avoiding moving targets. Something that I would quickly complete before my injury.
I was not going to give up.
I tried it again and again.
I tried at night.
I tried in the morning.
I tried when I was horny.
I tried right after shooting my load.
I remember the last time very well. It was two weeks ago, 5 PM, Saturday, after having a good sleep. I felt fully awake. To boost my clarity, I have had coffee.
I turned on the PS3. I was determined to pass this level.
This last try has lasted for two hours, and then I put my joystick down in my lap, and I quietly cried.
I don't know for how long I cried, 10? 15 minutes?
I left the movie room and went to bed again. I felt tired, exhausted, humiliated.
The day after, I went back to the movie room. The PS3 was still on. When I turned on the receiver, I could hear the title music playing. I hated it.
I took the Blu-ray disc out of the PS3; I put the game away in the storage cabinet.
I knew for sure that I would no longer be able to play these kinds of titles ever again.
But then I also remembered what the neuro specialist had told me a week after my injury.
"Focus on what you still have and not on what you have lost."
That's a lesson I should keep repeating to myself.
Every day, for the rest of my life.
Click here to see my thick cock...