“Who is the type of gamer you want to become?”
“Doublelift? Why is it? Anyway, Doublelift has never once conquered the peak during his career.”
“You’re right. Perhaps I like Doublelift because of arrogance.”
“What arrogance is admirable”
“In arrogance, there is always a lot of effort and confidence. I always desire to have that confidence. Maybe because I always feel like I’m too weak.”
What are professional gamers admirable. For some reason I want to be them, there’s always something inside me that tells me I have to get there, get what I’m willing to trade for everything. In a post-match interview, the image of a gamer holding a microphone with a trembling voice but being able to declare to everyone that he would beat them all still leaves an impression on me.
I realized that it was not his statement to everyone, but rather to myself. He knows every effort is meaningless if it fails. It would be strange if I told people I had never felt really happy playing games. My only passion is not happy but I still want to pursue it to the end.
I play games but don’t feel happy … (Artwork)
I lived alone with my mother since I was young, in my memory there was no father’s image. My mother never told me who her father was, she always tried to avoid it whenever I asked.
It was not until the age of 5 that an unknown man claiming to be my father appeared. It was a mature man but it was difficult for me to determine the exact age, he wore a very polite suit that created a sense of security and intimacy. But I can’t remember his face clearly, it was too faint for a 5-year-old child.
Instead, I could clearly remember his deep, characteristic voice. The man seemed to be very interested in me, he also brought a gift bag wrapped. However my mother did not seem pleased with his appearance, I could feel the space full of tension.
Perhaps my presence is the only reason why they can calmly talk to each other. The conversation between them was quite confusing so I could know what they were saying, I could only hide behind my mother and watch the strange man.
After a while, he stood up and rubbed my head, gave me a big smile and left immediately. That was the last time I saw him. My mother never mentioned it, I also knew that she never wanted to mention it. I always feel inferior whenever I have to tell my classmates that I don’t know who my dad is, even if I even thought I didn’t have a dad. But when the strange man claiming to be his father appeared, I did not have the courage to ask him clearly the problem.
I have so many questions a child needs to answer, I want to run to him immediately when he walks out the door. Perhaps I want to know if he is really his biological father, why he appears and why he cannot take me out to play like other fathers. During that time, I rekindled thinking that I had a real father and that he could appear at any time to come to me, to answer my questions. But that absolutely never happened again.
In his only gift bag was a NES-type handheld computer that was very popular at the time.
Unlike other children, I had to learn to play the piano since I was a child, I was exposed to classical music when I was 6 years old, not every child could do, the academic performance in the classroom was very high. Make friends and teachers admire.
I have never been aware of it, ever since a child who wringed his nose is not as clean as me has become a hope for others. But perhaps still as they say, the greater the hope, the more frustration. I spend most of my weekends tedious with piano classes and above all, I don’t really have friends, my world is so different from my peers.
“Mom, I don’t want to go to school anymore.”
That’s what I told my mother in the beginning of middle school, she seemed quite angry and just considered it a childish thought. She burned all my toys including memorabilia that sometimes on special occasions, the children often gave to each other. I also had to take a break from the piano after that to focus on my studies. In that fire was a toy that my father met only once in my life to give. I wondered why I hadn’t dragged them out to play like other children before, I just quietly put them carefully on the bookshelves and sat watching them like an odd child who couldn’t find joy in the The toy is full of shapes and colors.
That fire burned with the only memories between you and the father, but you can’t even remember the face. But as always, you never had the courage to ask your mom to stop. You dare to stand by and watch it burn down slowly. Perhaps that is your nature, quietly witnessing the things that you love the most gradually leave you. Above all, you are a coward!
What will come will come, around grade 8, the crime of silently stopping his study and of course not long after that my mother also discovered.
This time she said nothing. In my memory there is always the image of a mother crying silently at night, perhaps too many terrible things have happened to her. She always expected a lot from me, I was able to realize that from a very young age but maybe my inherent instinct was to disappoint others. When I stopped playing the piano and stopped studying, the only child in her grandmother probably disappeared completely.
It was almost the last time I talked to my mother, who tightly closed her emotions. I could no longer see her smiling, happy, sad or even angry. It is just a dummy trying to fulfill a mother’s duties, working every day and leaving a sum of money for her children to spend on their own. In our house, it was completely silent, sometimes I would say things like “Hi Mom”, “Mom just came home” but those clichéd words never reached her, she just watched me. like to confirm whether I’m alive or dead.
I hate my father because he never sees me again but I really appreciate his gift. The handheld computer that Dad gave me even though I had never played it before, I didn’t know how it worked. When I was a kid, some kids asked me to go to their house to play games but I refused. For some reason, I always did that, maybe the lack of a father figure made me more afraid of everything or maybe I was scared to make my mother sad.
THAT’S WHEN I HAVE LOOKED FOR ONLINE GAMES!
I want to see my father one more time, remember his image in my mind, show off to others that I really have a father. I realized I needed to play games, which I missed as a child, the only thing associated with my existence and memories of him, which my mother mercilessly burned down before my eyes. I. I spend most of the day in the game, I play non-stop, maybe it’s the only place where I feel my presence is truly being recognized.
I like the feeling of beating others. My existence in the game is both virtual and real. On top of that, I realized that I needed to be good at playing the game for no specific reason. In that world, no one expected me, they just admired my talent, they couldn’t even know who I was in real life. To be honest, this makes me really comfortable.
The feeling of defeating others is really comfortable
“Hey, have you ever tried to look up your father on Facebook?”
“I don’t use Facebook, I actually have it for a long time”
“Why, why don’t you use it, it’s really useful.”
“When I was in sixth grade, I accidentally hurt a Facebook classmate, and the other classmates hated me ever since. So I promised myself I’d never use the network again. Damn society. It’s ridiculous isn’t it. “
“Anyway, it’s a story of the past, if you try to use it again, maybe you can find out some information about your father.”
“Actually, I never had any intention of finding my father, I was still in the house where he first met me, if he wanted to, he would have been looking for me for a long time, maybe he didn’t live to see him. I mean “
“Don’t say that!”
Later I made a friend through an online game with the nickname “Suri”, she was 2 years older than me and that was all I could know about her. For some reason I was able to talk freely with Suri, telling her about my past stories, something I had never shared with anyone. But of course, she didn’t know who I was, we were just like anonymous friends online, playing games and talking to each other.
Anyway, there is something in Suri that I yearn to have. Suri is also a very talented gamer, she almost defeated me in a game where I was confident that I had no opponent, but she could not beat someone who could only face her in all day. Computer screens like me. But to say that she was very gifted with gaming, she never practiced it as hard as me, she had work to do in real life and only played games as a tool to relax, a passion. overtime love.
Suri also told me that she had thought about participating in a professional tournament but she rejected that intention immediately. Perhaps being born as a woman made it easy for her to give up her passion, no one would accept a female gamer playing, they would deny her talent right away. angry and just see her as someone who wants to build the attention of others. Suri knew that very well, and she didn’t want to become the type to attract attention. She enjoyed playing video games in her spare time and for her it was more than enough to enjoy everyday life. I always admired her for that, I could only aim for the top but I was too cowardly to reach it.
“Sometimes I feel a little worried about you.”
“Worry about me, I don’t have anything to worry about”
“How can you play a game if you have never been so happy?”
“I don’t know, maybe my personality as a child has grown up like that.”
When I was playing games with Suri, I realized that she put a lot of her emotions into the game, I never got those feelings. She can easily feel happy, excited or unjustly angry at me every time I play a game. It’s strange that a very important person like me doesn’t have that kind of feeling while she can easily get it. All I can feel is that I have to do everything perfectly and not make any mistakes.
Some time later, I realized that I fell in love with Suri.
I love the woman 2 years older than me, whom I don’t even know how my face looks. Even if she told me that she already has a lover, I wouldn’t be surprised at all. But I still wanted to love her, I was tired of having to determine what my true feelings were, I just knew that I loved her. From childhood to adulthood, I’ve always shunned every girl who intends to approach me, I’m afraid they will know her pathetic person, but Suri is different. I could easily tell her everything about me without having to worry about how she would value me. But what worries me is whether she will accept me or not, maybe things will be better if we keep being two friends who confide online.
That was when I realized I needed to change, I couldn’t go on living like I was, I was fed up with being a coward. Yes, I need to leave this house.
“Send Mother !
Hi mom, it’s been a long time since my mom and I talked, maybe these will be the last words I can say to you. I may still be resentful to you, but I just want you to know that I have never hated you, I have always treated you as a real mother all my life. And don’t worry, when you decide to leave home, it’s no longer the effeminate decision of a child, you’re grown up and you’ve been preparing for this for quite some time. In the past, I still saw her crying from time to time but I was sorry that I did not have the courage to go to comfort her. I know that something bad has happened to you, and to me, I hate the present life of myself.
I realize I can’t love others if I can’t even love myself. I wish I was just a normal kid, living in the love between his father and mother but I know I don’t deserve it. Right now, I’m in love with a girl 2 years older than me, I don’t know much about her, but maybe she doesn’t even care about my existence, I never dared to confess my love I feel for her but I know that this love for me just from one side is enough. As long as I know that I still have someone to love, I feel that this big world really exists for me. I decided I would pursue my passion to the end, I want to be able to redo my life. Above all I want to be truly happy and I want you to be the same. Perhaps she should also remake her own life, the life that she can daily smile to yourself. For me the mother is always the only mother in me. Bye mom. “
The train leaving Hanoi station at that time was probably around 9pm. Something in me felt both excited and worried about this new life, I didn’t know how I would have to live the next days or what to do but I knew very well that my heart was gradually beating again. .
“Ho Chi Minh City, I really like it”
“Have you been there?”
“I have not”
“So why do you know you like it?”
“Because I know there is Suri.”