EPTThis is the 4th installment, full story available here > https://docs.google.com/document/d/1cKZueqNujOPMABB-9FvR_XlzgnJIKESR-z32k_Z3jN8/edit?usp=sharing
I wasn't feeling too well the past few weeks so please forgive this one for being particularly shitty. It's over now.
You've changed dude
Hell. Hell is other people. And so is heaven. And every place in between. Just as a tree falling in the forest might as well make no sound if there’s no one there to listen, a human might as well not do anything if there’s no one there to judge them.
The Internet is full of other people. Let’s be honest, every person on the internet is of the “other” variety. Constantly judging, always ready to point out mistakes, demanding no less than 9000% while giving less than 1% themselves, they make sure we realise how little we are worth. In This environment the weak are culled, the mediocre are bitter and the insane excel. Pushed to the limits by the neverending tsunami of hate, we drown in it or wash up on a desert island, together with a couple of likeminded individuals.
There, friendships are made and bonds are built. We survive and complain, adapt and stay the same. We love it, we do it every hour we can, we can’t live without it. Never change, internet. You might be hell, but you’re hell we built ourselves. And that’s something, right?
One could say that things have flatlined in the Eternal City of GD. That is, it was dead for good. Even the whispering wind seemed to care less than usual, if that’s even possible. Can you even care a negative amount? About a thing you know well and used to care a lot about? You can probably anti-care about something you don't even know exists, but something you used to love? Care is a radioactive element, it might decay into lower ones such as bitterness and anger but will never vanish completely, there will always be a trace left, burning painfully in the back of your head. Care has a halflife, not an expiry date...
I was sitting on a cardboard box, pretty far away from the mass grave of #tl.dota2, which stank worse than the nerdiest of conventions, contemplating the fragility of life and giving a fuck. I’ve just lost a place I called home for so long, and it wasn’t even really my fault. My house wasn’t even destroyed, it’s just the neighbourhood that’s gone to shit. Can you really still call a place home when you can’t live there anymore? This used to be a lovely slum, now it’s just a graveyard.
-You’ve changed dude- I said to myself to get myself together. Banal truth’s always sober me up. I shook my head and looked around. Past this point the city officially turned into a desert, with the street ending abruptly and instantly becoming a dusty wasteland with a lonely rock or a dead shrub being the only things visible on the horizon. Apart from a distant figure, which appeared to be moving in my direction! A lone traveler was coming to visit!
I stood up for this momentous occasion and took a closer look, causing Abora Delle to spring up from the pile of old papers she was resting on. She probably thought we were going somewhere again, but no, this time someone was coming to us! I was waiting until they got within earshot and without fail he said:
-Hello! My name is NightGuy67!
-Hey I am ShadowHunter and this is my pet, TheMutilator- I returned the courtesy. The freedom to name stuff has been one of the most abused ones, with the great tradition of nonsense names going back way more than even Tolkien’s crazyness. But if anyone ever deserved to be punished for a name they chose on the internet it’s this fucking guy. It’s not even night for crying out loud! Put off already, I wanted to get over with this xXNighterino B O Y Xx ASAP so I asked him to get the encounter going.
-How may I help you?
Before answering he looked at me, and the pink head poking curiously from behind my leg, judgingly. Who was he to judge me, in his dust covered black hoodie, a shitty grey scarf on his face, with his muffled voice and dirty track pants, with heavy boots that were completely unfit for the weather and that gigantic backpack of his. This anonymous vagabond comes into my place and dares to imply I am the weird one?
-Do you know where I can find a place to play Dota? -he asked, revealing that he is, in fact, an archeologist! Where did he lose his hat though? And his map? And brain?
-Do what now?- I asked, faking surprise. He wasn’t the first, and probably still not the last one, to try to get that information from us. Our most well kept secret, the key to the legendary source of fun, Dota. Not a single person in here cares about it anymore but it doesn't mean we were going to give it away to some random guy with a shit name and terrible manners. No one cares mostly because they are all gone. This guy, however, obviously cared. What a nerd.
-The video game? It has do with defending and killing of stuff?- Somehow, his answer managed to anger me. We, the people of GD, failed to defend and now we are killed. And stuff. What a precise description -.-
-Ooooh- I shouted, louder than necessary- you mean like in those fancy new MOBAs?- as I said the last word a long, loud thud could be heard somewhere in the ruined city. I smiled a little. Walls have ears and even the walls of GD hate the word MOBA. - I can’t help you but you should go ask around, maybe someone else will know. Make sure to ask about MOBA though- Another sound, similar to a rolling thunder, could be heard in the distance- Otherwise they’ll know how new you are.
He gave me another look that made me think that I am not being taken seriously. Just a hunch you know.
-So you don’t know where I can find some inhouses?- he asked. His dedication, while admirable, was obviously misguided and, as such somewhat, laughable. So I giggled to myself a bit. It came across as something like:
-Lol no.
The stranger sighed heavily and without saying anything else started to slowly walk away, in the direction of the ruined city center. I knew he wouldn’t listen to me if I told him that he wasn’t going to find anything worthwhile in there, but I felt I should say something.
-Hey!- I yelled after him. He slowly looked back over his shoulder- You tried. -I managed to raise his eyebrow. Mission accomplished.
He stood there for a minute or two, his eyebrow still elevated, shrugged and moved on. For someone traveling through the most desolate parts of the internet he was in quite a hurry, not sticking around for a chat about latest memes and other recent happenings in the online sphere. Lucky me I guess. I wanted to be left alone after all.
As the silhouette of the guy slowly faded in the distance (a fairly short one due to all the dust in the air) I realised I was still standing, staring blindly into the distance, my mind completely blank. I slowly sat back down on my box, mentally checking positions off the list of things worth thinking about. Then I double checked the list to make sure I didn't miss anything. Yes, it turns out that, in fact, there was nothing worthwhile left in here. I let myself be ironically shocked for a bit, I deserved a bit of relaxation before making the big decision on what my next step was going to be. While sitting on this box forever sounds very romantic and would most definitely make me a legendary guardian of this place, it would also mean sitting on a box forever. And that’s a very long time.
I looked down at the ground in front of me and I saw the footprints of the person I’ve just had such an intellectual and enlightening conversation with. He left behind bits of dust in a completely foreign color, making me realise there were other places just as dusty as this one not so far away. What if they weren’t equally dead? I called over Adora Belle and started petting her vigorously; busy hands always helped me focus and today was no exception. The stranger, after noticing there was nothing of value in this particular spot, was swift to move on. What was keeping me from moving?
Was this dry, drafty shithole actually an inescapable swamp, drowning me in the sticky goo of bittersweet memories, holding me back harder every time I try to free myself? Can it be that I was to forever reminiscence the days of dubious glory while everywhere around me there’s just dusty memorabilia and the smell of catpiss? Am I really that old? Am I really so dedicated and narrow minded that I can’t see past whatever is right in front of me? Fuck no, I’m not! Definitely not dedicated!
-Fuck my life!- I said, standing up rapidly and scaring the shit out of my pink companion, who was probably starting to love-hate me really hard- It’s time to get the fuck out of here before my head explodes - I looked down at the product of the last time my mind was blown, literally- Again.
I slowly walked of of towards the horizon (I wish the sun was setting at the time, I think I was going west). I left The Dota 2 General Discussion thread poorer millions of brain cells and richer a friend. So I got scammed really.
Rest in Peace GD 2011-2014 ;_;7
