it's sad to think you've fallen for his pretty face, and the way he walks, the way he talks, the way he keeps you up for days... it's sad to know he doesn't really care, and all of this was just a show because he's run by softwares. it's hard to wake up and face the reality that he never once existed and was only brought to life by mere imaginations and thanks to you, you've been keeping him alive.

it's sad to hear him say, "thanks for playing!" when he's your only escape amidst your tiresome journey through life.

lyrically, I kind of feel like an assassin
at the task point & equipped with poison darts
for I'm 'bout to let fly an attack in
this b#tch with toxic bars
pointed, like v𝗜per's fangs, at an
outfit of office bo[ɑ]ds/do[ɑ]gs
kno𝗪n 𝗔s "Electro𝗡ic Ar𝗧s"
at the time it was found
a certain game of thine is shut down
like a chipmunk, I went nuts
'cause, for keeps, I'd lost 𝗠𝗬 𝗖𝗔𝗥𝗦 (lost)
on styling which, several hours were spent
thanks for all the time wasted
don't even have effing screen captures of them
awesome, amazing!
——————————————————————
when it comes to discussions like games get
human noggins go crazy
it's not them themselves are stuff to put blame on
it's, among things not mentioned, such situations
——————————————————————
now getting 𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞
to those r𝗘sponsible for that scoundrelly act
and probably not gi𝗩𝗜ng an ounce of a f#ck
𝗟ike a tire drifting down a speed track
[attire]
it's gon' get smoky & **[ɑ]t (for you)
barbecue; so go hit a dog & bone & ring up
[heat]
a local smoke eaters squa[ɑ]d
'kin to "Rebel", I scream f#ck the suits
[keen; ice cream]
like somebody chosen to o[ɑ]pt
for a punk-like look
but you can all get choked by asco[ɑ]t (lethally)
as if you were getting iced by someone who's
got Caledonian blood (a Scott)
𝗔ppetite to hunt unful–
–fi𝗟𝗟ed; you're in it to make bread like *******s
[field]
but don't be swift to get laid-back, don't chill
ak𝗜n to potatoes & sh#t
like th𝗔t, better maintain your eyes peeled
better still is beating a hasty retreat
si𝗡𝗖𝗘 in the same freaking field
[sins; freak in field]
I am; the Creeper, in it to prey like a priest
[pray]
as if you were ****** in religion (horse?)
I'm speeding your way like a whip (vroom-vroom)
in other words, you're in fO̲r some moll-treatment
told I'm in it to prey since it's writ
large that you're being a game in this b#tch
which, in turn, is the reason I'm playing a bit (with words)
to say it in brief, you're simply collation to ge[ɪ]t
let me add a medievalish taste to this sh#t
[evilish]
arranging it akin to the H & the G
[a range]
not "H" & "G" as in hunter & game, though
"H" & "G" as in Hansel & Gretel
i.e. with you getting ablaze like a witch
with this one, might be given a place in a list
of ones given to making it lit
in the middle of taking a trip, the freighter's equipped
and fit for action like babes in dance clips
the cargo's like a pro[ɑ]stitute
becau[ɑ]se it's gon' go down on you
a kind of mood to bust the roof
of the "Arts" HQ; an armored loot
box, large & toom, perha[ɑ]ps, will do
then dump on you a multitude
of fla[ɑ]sks produced from gla[ɑ]ss & full
of ga[ɑ]s, then put a mat[ɑ]ch to use
like pirate dudes, I spark the fuse
the falcon shoots, the target's doomed
dead in the water, so a po[ɑ]ssible res–po[ɑ]nd from you (pond)
is nothing short of garbage-good (dead in the water)
[lyrical waters]
these bars being by the side of you are like balloons
within a reach of clowns
in other words, you might get it twisted now
but it's time for you to find a new **** jo[ɑ]b in view
of the lines above becau[ɑ]se it looks
like I̲'ve zilch short of go[ɑ]tten you
fired, which explains why I̲ feel like a bo[ɑ]ss 'kin to
a vehicle used bY̲ whelps to get brou[ɑ]ght to school (bus)
exorcism bout
for it's like getting demons out
[letting demons out]
guess you, "EA", have already figured out
the amusement which shutdown
my pen is steamed about
it's "NFS: W"

The last strike connects and Geralt´ s free at last.
A sword in his hand and an armoured chest
He has slain the final boss.
He has finished the final quest.

With the help of your hand and your knowledge and skill
He was able to fight himself free.
And now that the prewritten story is done
He can pursue his own will and is free.

And now You sit in your chair, wishing not only now
To be Geralt, the man with the power
To beat all the shadows of past and in present,
But You live under your father

Who has written already the actions you take,
Who has written the words you will utter.
For he is the one with experience.
And he is the one who knows better.

Yet You were the one leading the witcher´ shand.
You are the one with the power.
Pick up your weapon and armour of mind
And kick him from his tower.

It is long overdue that you realise.
Your father is the final boss.

Venti, I admire,
I wish I was like you who soars through the sky.
Free like the bird you are,
Unburdened by worries,
just like stars dancing at night.

venti sits.
Up in his statue,
He admires the city,
that he built.

Venti, my sweet,
How lovely is it for us to meet,
Your green hair, your glowing locks,
Please comfort my soul, so my heart will be unlocked.

Your voice, your longing stare,
I love that you're always waiting there.
Your dreams, your goals,
I love that you'd rather be free,
like the god of wind! You fly happily.

Venti, my sweet,
stop drinking wine,
you're higher than a grape vine.

Venti, my sweet,
You prevent me from getting enough sleep.
my thoughts wander,
to your fantasy world I wish to discover.

Your calming presence speaks,
volumes of comfort,
You never fail to bring me relief.

May you sleep well.
I'll be back for tomorrow before you say farewell.
I love your antics, I love your voice.
I love that you play with me, I love that you bring me joy.

Venti, my sweet,
Come have a picnic with me!
At Windrise, for an afternoon tea.
There's cake, there's biscuits,
a lovely day, for you and me.

A picnic, with me!
I'm sorry, I didn't get you alcohol,
I worry about your alcohol capacity.

It rains.
You once asked me to come out and play,
over puddles, in patches of green grass, mist and hay,
What a lovely way to spend the day.

venti,
your beauty is like no other,
as pretty as the stars under glistening skies, its no wonder.
I fell for your grace, I fell for your personality,
how your smile brightens up my day entirely.

slander your name, they do,
but I shall savor my time spent with you.
right or wrong, they dictate,
but I shall pay them no mind, as always, my playmate.

you live in my mind,
however you like.
as long as you're happy,
I feel peace, basking in the moonlight.

Do you want to play?, it asks.
You have no choice.
A simple romp in vibrant green fields, surrounded by an impossibly blue sky—

That bottomless pit wasn’t there before.

Do you want to play again?, it asks.
You have a choice. You agree.
You play again, and again, and again.
And you never stop—

—until that cake is yours.

In a small town with big dreams
A girl named Chicago
Plays sim city
She builds the skylines
She will one day design
But until then her mom
says video games are just a waste of time

First commercially successful
Video game technology
Pong arcade video game
Made by Atari
Loved by millions instantly
Started an 80 billion dollar industry
Pong -no Ping-
Just Pong

Simplistic graphics still astound
Mesmerized by the sound
Blip
Blip
Pong, blip
Blip
Pong, blip
Pong, blip
PONG!!!

Hah!  Point made
In the shade!
First to eleven
In Pong heaven
Blip
Blip
Pong, blip
Blip
Pong, blip
Pong, blip
PONG!!!

A social lubricant it became
Relationships formed
Playing the game-
Rocking to our favorite songs
Staying awake all night long
Taking turns playing Pong
Pong -no Ping-
Just Pong

if you were to go to the beach,
into the sea,
far out
further, further.
place your head under the water and listen out
for the sounds of chains that seem so close,
that you could grab on and use as support to float
but really they're far far out, your eyes cant even see,
rusty chains grinding off one another, sour.

the sound seems so familiar
perhaps the time you tried to drown
your head slowly sliding under the water in the bathtub
holding your breath
thinking of nothing
but the sound of the pipes remind you of that video game you played, the one that made you curious

that in fact saved your life, the story you wanted to play over and over.
as every time you played you discovered something new.
it's beautiful, the theme song as your lullaby


maybe i was looking for an excuse to live,
the only thing that saved me was that video game.