I did, however, take a great interest in my father and my brother's video games. My brain became so intensively wrapped around video games that I would pretend to play video games instead of fucking around with toys like a normal 7-year-old. I would often disregard the consequences of staying up past my bedtime and escape from the prison of my bed, meandering into the living room to observe my father and/or my brother playing video games.edit.
My father wanted to talk to me about the difference between real-life and make-believe, and so he did:
Over the course of a week, my toy collection evolved from a box of menial transformers and cars to an elaborate armory of plastic weaponry and defensive items. I had helmets, shields, breastplates, katanas, axes, bows, staves, shortswords, longswords, and greatswords. I possessed all of the equipment that I would need to save the world. For the entirety of a month, I spent nearly all of my time either hacking away at invisible bad-guys in our backyard, trying to throw fireballs at my cat, or staring very intently at the sky in hopes that my sheer willpower would be able conjure up some sort of magical storm.
I immediately bolted to my room, equipped myself with the proper sword and shield, and then darted back into the dining room. I lifted my sword to the sky and, with absolute conviction, I shouted the following words:
by Beard Bro