So, I went to the post office. "Rave On" by Buddy Holly was playing on my car stereo. This is a song from 1958--shame on you if you don't know it.
I parked and didn't realize that there were two little old people in the truck next to me. When I got out of the car, the old lady rolled down her window and said, "Hey man, you're cool." Then she rolled up her window and they drove away.
Last night I dreamt that I was in an Alfred Hitchcock movie. In the dream I was remarking at how exciting it was to be a part of such an auspicious project. I watched the playback and was thrilled by how beautifully Mr. Hitchcock had lit my shot, and how well the Hollywood magic people had contoured my face and styled my hair and dressed me. All in black and white, of course. I think I might have been in Psycho. I don't know what part I was playing, but it was something that I felt really good about. It was amazing and felt quite real, despite making no sense. But then... I woke up. And to add insult to injury, I had to go to work. C'est la vie.
Here is a preview of "Silent," a homebrew game that I am developing alongside my other gaming project, Afterlife.
Similar to Afterlife, Silent is a blend of point-and-click adventures like Shadowgate and Snatcher with more traditional RPGs and adventure games. If you've ever played the infamous Clock Tower games, then you will have an idea of the effect I am aiming for.
We set down in the lagoon and taxied over to the beach. As before, a few of the men came out to greet us. The crowd, like so many we'd seen, wore modern clothes, t-shirt and shorts. They waved to us as we disembarked from our plane.
"I'll talk to them," Johnny said. He took off his sunglasses and put on his plastic smile. "Go make us look convincing."
Johnny walked over to the men, waving. They were talking in an instant, Johnny gesturing calmly, making a point of it to look at everyone, speak to everyone. As usual, I stood apart from them with my camera out in front of me, pretending to take pictures. I really did take a few, mementos of the immense natural beauty of the tropics. It's amazing that one could get bored with beauty like that, but I had already. Still, I knew that I would appreciate it later, when it was cold outside and I was wet from snow.
So I took more pictures, absent-mindedly, trying my best to seem like a real reporter, remembering here and there to write something down in my notebook, which I nearly lost in the water. I grabbed it just in time, and it opened to the page where I kept my picture of Johnny and his family. It was a professional photo. Johnny with his arms around his wife, and her holding the baby, all three dressed well and scrubbed to perfection. It was actually the wife who'd sent the picture to me, with a polite note, the details of which I'd forgotten. The wife, so horribly pretty, with her heart-shaped face and laughing eyes.
I was grateful to her, despite my intense envy. She'd included me in their life with this friendly gesture, which she had no obligation to do. We had never met. But the picture was all I'd had of Johnny for so long, and meager as it was, I was happy to accept it. It was my treasure.
I dream a lot about childhood. I'm not sure what I dreamt about last night, but I was haunted all day by that wistful, bittersweet, regret-laden feeling that can only mean a Nostalgia Attack.
It's worse in the summertime, and today felt like summer. All of those carefree hours exploring the countryside or just getting comfortable on my bed and dreaming. You get to remembering the good times on a day like today, and you get to asking yourself, what exactly is my life right now? A frenzied rush in the office all day and a dark, quiet apartment in the evenings. Wow, is adulthood ever what anybody expects it to be?
I guess I felt sad today. As sometimes happens, I have something that is really bothering me at the moment. Part of the Nostalgia Attack is that all of these tense, ambivalent feelings get wrapped up into one tight and fiery but also very broad and sweeping emotion. You can't talk yourself out of it, you just feel it. On nights like this, I want to get in the car and run away and keep on driving. But I know that, no matter how far or fast I go, I won't ever get there. You really can't go home again. So, sometimes it's best to just browse old YouTube videos for a while, until you can fall asleep, and hope that you feel better tomorrow. Wish me luck.