A avid gamer, I’ve never thought much of laptops and notebooks. They always seemed underpowered, undersized. Just basically under-everything. Except for the Alienware Mobile Area51, which was a luxury item even for the stinking rich, most notebooks were no good when it came to my main form of entertainment.
I always envisioned myself as one of those adults who did the cool things teenagers did. I wanted to be the parent whom other kids wish they had. But today toting around the powerbook, I find that I’m not unlike my peers.
Sitting here in the atrium blogging while listening to my mp3s, I suddenly realise that I no longer feel the urge to fire up Doom or Castle Wolfenstein. It scares me a little, for I’ve always equated slowing down with a symptom of death. As children we grow more and more each day, till one day we find ourselves dying a little everytime the sun sets.
I don’t know if I’ve reached the peak of my own conceptualised life-curve.
Danny Boy plays in the background, instead of the Aguilera-type songs the youth of today listen to so much. Maybe I’m not cut out to be one of those cool adults. Maybe I’m just like everyone else.