Another Text Beckons

How do I resist the urge to abandon the creative nature of my imagination when friends invite leisure without limits within their games of endless self-expression?

Sometimes, I think it's more fun to improve my video game character than my own. When I reflect on this balmy, gray heat haze I worry. I worry that giving into games is a sign. More than marijuana, video games or sex, the base desire runs on impulse.

Do I stay up all night? Do I eat one more even though I'm not hungry? Scroll past more and more arbitrary albeit intriguing shorts? I don't blame the content. After all, people have permission, moreover the right to express themselves. Only, I don't have to watch.

I don't have to see this video. I don't have to click this link. I don't have to watch the stream, scan this QR code, or consume more than a lifetime's worth of content- ephemeral, intangible, sugary junk food for the brain to rot its teeth.

I want to read Four Arguments For The Elimination of Television by Jerry Mander. Hell, I want to write one about memes. Writing would be the only win. To spend time, tick the clock down by trekking tens of miles scrolled with the tip of your thumb isn't my idea of a 'taking a hike'.

That is why the most important trait of a Sand Bandit is patience. Being patient enough not to be swayed by what's unfolding right in front of your eyes, but patiently waiting for the right time.

If I don't make it, there won't be a right time. So I write a post again. I write to change the course. I don't jus game all day. I don't just sit at a desk all day. I rage. I ride. I train to run the race on the road to the riches.