there’s this weird feeling whenever i remember this blog exists. there’s such little evidence it does exist or ever had anything on it, beyond like, some embarrassing screenshots on the mares nest. that’s why i feel comfortable venting here when i’m at my lowest i guess. i’m not in that kind of mood right now but i have just done an all nighter before a 10 hour shift. that was an accident, but hey. i have a job now. that’s something good to report here. 

anyway it’s just one of those things where i laid awake all night but couldn’t get to sleep and so i thought about, like, a thousand things, and one of them was just the memory of the sims 3 community and how weird it was to be an attention seeking twelve year old trying so hard to fit in with a bunch of 20 somethings. like it would have been weird if they’d been my friend back then. i kinda wish i could have seen that, but you know. i was twelve. 

it’s a shame because it’s a dead community. there’s a sims community but it’s not this one. that’s okay. it only seems so good because of the nostalgia. 

i remember when i tried to come back and the mares fucking gutted me and to be honest, i’m glad they did. it was an exercise in ego, as if anybody would even care i was back. i barely even posted about the sims. i was best known for trolling a forum and even then i was just really in a more interesting persons orbit. but they said something of the lines of, if you want to be in the community, contribute to it for a change. that was a wake up call. it scared me away and i kind of wish it didn’t. i would have had a little more time with this community if it didn’t. 

i think i wish i hadn’t sacrificed my love for the sims but instead centred it. there was shit i could have been making and i have an identity of my own that could have been shown in my work. i’m a good writer and i should have written. even at twelve, i could get into the finales of those forum modelling competitions armed with tacky online-photo editors and whatever CC i could manage to scavenge from downloading sims off the exchange. i’m not trying to toot my own titties, i just wish i saw that shit then. 

i don’t know, i mean, i’ve always harboured a certain amount of shame when it comes to my time here but i’m trying to let that go because it was twelve years ago and i can barely remember it. like, yeah, i was weird and annoying. i was a little boy. i just wish that little boy didn’t have to feel like he was nothing compared to a bunch of adults; and i wish that i understood that those adults didn’t, like, hate me or think i was beneath them, they were just taking reasonable distance from like . a group of hyper preteens who chose their chatboxes as a social gathering. 

i’ll always miss those days but i think it’s time to do something with the sims that i’ve always wanted to do. and maybe i won’t bother pretending not to be gorgon. nobody knows who he is, now, but maybe i owe it to him to contribute for once. 

once a pink plumbob, always a pink plumbob.