Online Sequencer Forums

Full Version: The Thing I Just Wrote For Lit Class.
You're currently viewing a stripped down version of our content. View the full version with proper formatting.
For all you nerds who like reading and the gamers out there who just want something to relate to. This is already turned in, I just formatted it to make it easier to read. Feel free to comment.

Another day on the computer, March 20, 2015.

Have you read the Terms of Use and Privacy Policy? Click.

Are you over the age of 13? Twelve, but close enough, I’ll be thirteen in a several months.

My very own Gmail account, right before me. It had probably been a gateway to everything I’ve ever wanted as a kid. DeviantArt, YouTube commenting, fanfiction sites, free online games…

No. I was tired of playing alone.

Maybe it had been another day of playing some obscure game when I first learned that not every advertisement was a virus.
My eyes couldn’t stay centered onto the flash I was playing without another game on the side, hogging my attention. Polished, high quality games often appeared left to right like street food.

3D animations. High resolution illustrations.

A game that you could immerse yourself in, a fast-paced game addicting enough to make you stay seated for hours. If something looked good, you couldn’t help but click on the website.

Email address? It wasn’t a problem anymore.
For the first time, I didn’t feel left behind from watching gameplay videos and trailers.
Like entering the foreign country of your dreams, your email was the passport.

At that very moment, I bid farewell to my childhood pastimes.
It was goodbye to all of the dress-up games I’ve ever played, turn-based RPGs, and Duck Life 4.

Since I’ve grown up from the mindset that I needed to ask permission, signing up and installation felt like a breeze.
Creating your character, killing tutorial dummies, and running through dungeons was like clockwork.

With more effort, class changing was just moments away.
It was the turning point of your gameplay, specializing as someone with a specific skill set.

But out of thirty or so options, who did I want to start off with?

Who would have been the most useful class in a party play?

Which class had the playstyle could I really enjoy playing?

It was overwhelming at first. It meant asking other people who knew the game better than I did.

Seeing another person who chose the same character as I did in the party, my fingers quickly scrambled on the keyboard, fast enough to keep up with the rest of my group members. 

LucentTear: Hey guys do you know which class is the most fun for this char?

Like it was the most important question in the world, my team responded immediately with who to choose, and why.
Channel names of Korean players using this character filled the chat log.
Some of the people I’ve met even offered a friend request just to help me out.
For someone who’s never received this feedback in real life, I’ve decided that it wasn’t too bad at all.

Of course, that was a long time ago.

At some point, it occurred to me the game became more than just a game.
At some point, somewhere, my brain picked up that the game was anything but fun.

It wasn’t exactly slavery.

It was just a simulation of life on your desktop.
Things I’ve felt motivated to do became an everyday chore.

Leveling character after character.

Fighting boss after boss.

Skipping the uninteresting plot all over again.

It all boiled down to seeking the same friends for help, running the same dungeons, and having as much ingame money as possible to spend it all in the blink of an eye.

It came to a point where players use their real life money to skip the process of being stuck in the loop.
A game designed where the only way you could get the best items wasn’t from pure dedication.
As long as you had money and luck, you could easily become better than most.
Unfortunately, the same had applied to an extent in the real world. Gaming was another reality.

It just wasn’t a game anymore.
Problems between gameplay mechanics and the economy arose.
Hackers, bots, and players threatening to leave were rampant.

As the playerbase died off, free market prices deflated, real life currency inflated, and social classes were creeping out.
It was a nightmare that one of the best free games I’ve played became a financial competition.

A stigma revolves around online gaming and I understand why it’s put into place.

Maybe I don’t, but I still want to pretend I do because I am an online gamer myself. Many people frown on gaming because it wastes your time preparing for the real world or something like that.

Despite the tragic story I’ve written, there had been many things I’ve been able to experience faster because of my online activity.

Learning to sell your items and bargaining prices is a good one I’d like to mention. The economy is hard, but more fun than it looks.

I wouldn’t think I would ever be able to experience team coordination again, either. I’ve had the opportunity to meet people that I really like, but most importantly, I got to shout at people I didn’t like.

At the end of the day, there are many ways to approach gaming and no matter how you do it, it will remain a part of you.

It still remains a part of me.

There are many genres out there to overcome and I’ve only described one of them.
Other people will view it differently, and that’s okay. It’s likely that you haven’t seen the entire Earth, the same applies to the gamingsphere.

There are things out there waiting to be discovered.
I run from that kind of game design like the plague. It's such a waste when a great game is designed in a way so it forces you to swipe your credit card over and over again to progress.