The Last Best Thing: Games
What was your last best game? What was the last game you played that made you feel like that was the best game in the whole history? Not the best game you've ever played, I'm asking about a game you played and think it deserves the tittle of best of games.
You see, it's impossible to determine what is the best game. Even among each category it is hard.
But in your life, (you who played enough), probably came upon a game that meant so much to you, that you faithfully believe it's the best game of all time.
One game you've played many times. One which you never get tired of. The one you recommend to all your friends.
Games, just like anything in life, can be a simple waste of time, but can also be one of the most valuable experiences in one's life. Just like a movie, it can have the perfect music to reflect the characters feelings. Just like a book, it can have the perfectly placed words that make you live the story of the book. Just like a painting, it can have a image, even if crude, that is worth all the words possible to describe the scene. Just like anything you interact in your life, you can relate to it, to the characters' desires, wishes, battles, feelings, code of conduct, style and so on.
Have you seen a game like this? Not necessarily perfect, not like this description, but a game you'd like to call the best.
And finally, if you know any game like this, what was the last game you played that felt like this?
Interestingly, I've chosen many games because of their style, name or just at random. But there is one game. I entered the store, not a big or famous one. My father was with me. I was very young. I wanted a famous game, that I thought would be interesting. They had none, or at least I did not find them. So I went for genre. Role Playing Games.
This one caught my attention. Simple name. Second in it series. Thought they did not have the first. Promised many things. Had very interesting new things. "The Ultimate Role Playing Game!" it said on the back. For some reason I believed it.
I was in the U.S. so I did not have my console with me, so I had to wait the whole trip before I got to play it. I read the manual, the box, anything. I got each time more and more anxious about it. I grew greater expectations by the day. And I'm proud to say it lived up to my expectations.
The games was original, had new interesting stuff, good graphics (for its time), great puzzles, great history, well developed characters and great soundtrack.
Well, this is the game that marked my life as the best game. I do say there are many games around this tittle, and probably this one is not even near the tittle, but in my concept this was the best game I ever played.
So if you have any interest. If you don't mind playing 2D games with sprites. If you have the time. If you like RPG. I'd say try it, with an open mind.
The name is Lufia 2: Rise of the Sinistrals. The Last Best Game I've ever played.

A Digging Dream
At your bed.
At night.
Struggling with cold.
Really really cold.

Winter is there.
You lay there curled.
Under piles of blankets.
Hugging your pillow.

You feel comfortable.
You breath heavily.
Your lungs request more air.
But you feel like not moving.

You start to drowse.
Breathing is not your focus.
Your mind at random thoughts.
Until it goes blank.

Time passes.
Dreams randomly in your mind.
Time really passes.
But then you have a dream.

One significant enough to remember.
A girl, a hug with tears and a talk.
Simple, but meaningful.
Your heart pumped stronger.

The dream of something,
You wish had happened long ago.
Probably the last time you had hope.
The last time your heart beat like this.

You regain conscientiousness.
Everything is dark.
Alone under the blankets.
Isolated from the cold.

You think about it.
Your heart feels young.
But it tells you the grim message.
You no longer wish this dream.

It was good as a dream.
Would have been good ages ago.
Now it would clash with anger.
So you go back to sleep.

Silent is the night.
Under the moonlight veil.
Surrounded by darkness.
Dreams are there to dig your old feelings.

Held by Thorn
Tum Tum!
It tried to find something to beat for, and found nothing.
Weird feeling of the pump for a reason, specially when it finds no reason.
Tum Tum...
it finds the tight rope of thorns holding it down.
it wonders about freedom.
Tum Tum,
will it ever find a new reason to tum?
will I ever find the peace I need to rest?
Tum?
I'm not in the mood for the other tum...

Age Differences
Have you ever looked back to see what were you like many years ago?
Many people wish they could go back in time and redo something in their lives.
I have this practice of thinking things I shouldn't have done, so I don't do them again. Of course I have to revisit whatever feeling I had at that time to understand why I did it.
So I glimpsed back. And realized how different I were. It's not that usual I was a geek now I'm a grown up. No, in fact, I'm still a geek =P.
Many year ago, and when I say many I mean about 95 years ago, there was I, a very shy boy with nothing better to do than video games. I was weak, never practiced any sports, or didn't like them. I wasn't social, knew few people, and was kind of hated by most. Being a geek like I was, I preferred to be at home, playing games, or playing with the few friends I had.
I was ashamed to do things. I feared what other people would think of me. I was raised believing in moral values, not being thought that I had a choice over them, and should choose the most appropriate moment to follow them. I was too timid to do things, so I kept out of other people's ways.
I had little knowledge, and little interest in expanding them.
I was different...
or should I say... I am different.
Now I have more confidence in my self. I have great awareness of my actions and their consequences. I choose without fear and go through it to the end.
I have my plans, great ones. Most will take a lot of effort, which I'm willing to do.
I have no shame about normal things, I have nearly no shame of my actions, and will talk about them freely if I wish.
I have much more knowledge, and there are many things which I still want to learn, and will in time.
I know lots of people, I have my group of friends from the RPG, and the college, we go out from time to time. And many other people I go out with.
Interestingly it seems strange to realize you've changed so much, even though you've been used to being like you are.
We still maintain traces of our childhood. Traces I believe to be unchangeable, eternal. Those traces unique to you, that no matter how much people may try or come close, they'll never have the same traces.
I might have been through a lot, and changed much more than I expected to. But on the good side, I'm much stronger. More than I ever imagined.
People change, fact.
But they do not necessarily change for the best.
I wonder how much will I change in the next years.
Do you?

The Woman in the Red Dress
The place is strange to me, I've never been here before, and probably wouldn't have come if it weren't for her unusual nagging.
Why did she make such a big deal about me coming here tonight, we could have gone to many other nice places without this kind of noise. Where is she? I thought she would have a table reserved for us. Like, what the hell is going on here?!
Maybe I got here first. She wanted to come in separate cars. It's nice for her to be independent, but sometimes I'd like to feel more useful, she could just spend this time with me, it wouldn't kill her.
This place is nice, despite the noise of course. It has many small round tables with thin chairs around them, the lights seem appropriate to talk with your friends about life. People occupy most of the tables, but some are still empty. Apparently two waiters seem to move from table to table picking orders and asking them to the bartender. At the bar, two people are preparing drinks, being one of them the link between the waiters and the kitchen, and the other the main cocktail master. There seem to be another person standing at the counter waiting to deliver the drinks.
People seem to be having fun, talking with each other. Even the few lonely people seem to be enjoying a calm night and having fun with their reading. I wonder how he can read under such dim light, maybe the light above him is enough.
Well, let me get a table for me.
Soft seat, this is good. The ambient music seem enjoyable too. Now that I'm closer to the other tables I can see some people playing card games. Strange thing for a place like this.
Well, I still haven't figured out what king of place is this. There is a piano in the stage at the end of the room. Doesn't seem to have much space to dance, so I'm taking this is a bar with live piano musics. I hope the pianist is good. I know she likes a soft cool music. Yeah, this must be why she wanted to come here, this place is like her, different but still classy. Of course, she seems more like the kind that goes to more agitated places, but this has a touch of her.
- Hi, can I get you something?
- Humm, get me cola, no ice or lemon.
- Ok, anything else?
- No thanks.
- I'll be right back.
Should I get something to eat? Well, I did eat late today, so I'm not hungry, but if she takes too long I'll get something just to nibble on.
- Here it is.
- Thank you.
The lights are fading. Where the hell is she? The performance is about to start.
A thin man enters the stage, all black outfit, he comes calmly and sits at the piano. People start to quiet down, the people playing cards stop their games, the people reading put down their books/papers. Silence takes place, darkness joins it.
The only light remaining is the one in the stage. But it's not at full power. Just enough for the pianist to read.
After one minute he finished stretching an put his hands into the piano. The song flowed with his fingers, gently, but firmly pressing each key, and producing the most soothing melody.
Damn it, she's going to miss it. Should I call her? But then I'll miss it too. Ok, there must be something wrong with her, I'll call her.
At that moment another spot light came to life. And a voice joined the song. A smooth voice, but strong. Amplified by the microphone she entered the stage from the left singing. The pianist was nows playing very low, giving space for the voice to lead the song.
The singer was thin, not too tall, about 1.70 meters, or something like that, with high heels.
Her hair was slightly curled, light brunet with some highlights, she wore no visible makeup, but she had the natural beauty that does not need it. She had the most beautiful smile, and sang very calmly, but you could feel her heart in every word she said.
She had this long, one piece, red dress, with a black design at at the breasts.
She kept singing for some time there, and when the time was right a string bass, and a violin joined the symphony, they came from each side and joined the piano. The created the most melodic back music to complete the voice singing those perfect lyrics.
For some reason, I could only think they were for me. They somehow spoke to my heart directly, they answered questions unsolved for years, they brought ease to the confusion in my heart, and all seemed so beautiful.
In the middle of the spectacle, she began to walk around the tables, not coming too close to each table, but passing happily near each one, but her eyes kept dancing around the room, eventually crossing with mine several times. The drums had joined the party too, appearing only slightly in the side when the curtains sled a bit open.
She stopped singing, giving room for the flute to come in and take on the main melody for some time. She then walked a bit more and went for the front of the stage, right in the center. She looked at me, raised the microphone to her mouth. She smiled.
I felt nervous, this was all too sweet, I felt too happy. I smiled back.
All instruments faded out gently, leaving the drums for an occasional beat check, just to keep the rhythm. She stepped forward taking a deep breath and sang again, without instruments filling, just her voice, her eyes, her walk and the only light in the place dimly following her around.
Those words, the words I vowed not to say out loud, not to reveal to anyone, the same words I've dreamed to hear one day, they came from her, specially to me, and took away every defense, barrier, stress, preoccupation, worries and sadness I had. Left me there, pure to feel how I'd once felt. How she seemed to feel.
She walked to me singing, she came closer, the instruments slowly seemed to return to the music, but I didn't realize it. My mind was on her voice, on her words. She touched my chest, and slid her hand over my shoulder to my hand. She pulled me up from the chair and kept singing looking into my eyes, just a foot away.
That was it, it could not get any more perfect.
From the moment the song ended I knew, I had no doubt, not about this. Not one of the ones that kept me company along many long years. I have no idea why those words have such effect, I've heard others that seem more fit to me, but for some reason, those words are the words I'd like to hear someone sing to me, and she did it.
That's why she didn't come with me, or explain anything. It wasn't to see a show with her, it was to see her perform. Perform to me.
That was all I needed to hear, and then I knew.

Traffic
40 minutes.
Two police cars.
One ambulance.
One tow truck.
All of them passing through me.
And in the end, no accident where I passed.
Damn those 40 minutes of traffic.

Intermission
The wooden main stage. There, illuminated by the spotlight. People phasing in and out of the stage.
Only one is there at all times. At least at this stage.
He walks around. In front of a crate he tries to push it. No use.
He walks away.
In front of a fence he tries to jump. Fails.
He gets up and cleans the dirt in his clothes.
He walks to a nearby tree. He glances beyond it. People are there. People who were on stage.
He blinks.
The weight of his eyelids is too much. He closes them.
The weight passes to his body.
Too heavy. Too...heavy.
He let go of his balance.
Right into the ground.
Tumpf.
The curtains goes down.
Intermission...

Personal Inspiration
Or what I mean is a inspiring person.
How many great things in the world were done with a person as inspiration.
Songs, Paintings, Sculptures, Bridges, Supercomputers, Buildings, Cars, Houses, etc.
You see, people don't do things without purpose. As sad as it may sound, it's true (from all I've ever seen). People may do things with no personal gain, just to feel better about themselves, or the world, as a retribution, just to do something random (because it is funny, it unwinds people), because they want something in return and many other more obvious reasons. But in the end, all is done for a reason.
But great things require and extra effort. So they need and extra reason. This, usually, turns out to be a special person. Hell, people usually say they would die for the someone special. At least that is what is portrayed in many different places. I'd say he/she has to be an extremely special person, or your life means not much. So, if you're willing to die for someone you're basically willing to do anything in your power (short from killing others, but this depends on your own values). That's when you decide you'll do a song for him/her or a painting, buy a car, build one, do fantastic things.
This is good, well it seems good at least. Just be careful not to become a fanatic, because this is destructive, to yourself, the special person, and many people near you.
I say sometimes, I believe that we are so technologically advanced because we do incredible things to impress others and sometimes make them happy, many times all this aiming at our own personal gain in the immediate future. Good for the rest of the world.
I had my share of personal inspirations. Some led me to go overboard sometimes just to steal a smile from a sad face, sometimes to make someone embarrassed because it was fun, and she would enjoy. So many things. I guess I'm only here because I have something that inspires me to go on. And maybe this dream will make me pass through great challenges. I'm sad that all inspiration I had in people faded... leaving only but admiration, respect. Few are the people whose simple daily acts would make me go on, just because there is someone out there trying hard enough to make me want to try harder. And I think I know none of them.
But I get my personal inspiration from people who do not exist, fictional people. People who fit into the description above. Even knowing they only live in movies, cartoons, game, I know that what they stand for represents a forgotten part of humanity, the part for which I would fight to death.
It may not be for people I know. It may be for people who do not exist. But my actions will go out to people who I believe can one day understand what it is that I fight for.
I've seen many different inspirations, many irrational, but it feels like ages since I last saw anyone going through hell for someone. It is as if people are thinking more about themselves than others lately. Is this true?
Did you people lost your own personal inspirations?