Nostalgia

Make something that you feel nostalgic about or that makes people feel nostalgic. This was a 50/50 split in the group for who agreed with some of the points but was still good fun to write and reminisce

Life through another’s eyes

I remember each adventure. I can play them through in my head like I was still stood there witnessing them all over again. Each morsel of detail that felt like the world had been crafted for me and me alone in those moments.

I remember the euphoria as we passed through the jungle together, seeing strange plants and wondering what new thing was around each corner. Driving wildly through the lands, only stopping for the occasional bit of food and drink. The sweet sugary nectar that poured its way down my throat felt so refreshing and revitalising on the long nights. The food had such a flavour that it stuck with me, despite how quickly the food disappeared as I ate. The smell of both of them still spark me back to those days whenever I smell them, even now.

Then there was that time that I was firing a shotgun and hoping the shot had made it on target; it was only a second or two to find out but it could feel like a lifetime. You could get into a rhythm and be prepared and ready for when you needed to take the next shot. And not just a shotgun, a rifle, a pistol, all manner of weapons that I could feel the impact of each one through my hands, and how mastery of any of them could take a lifetime.

Another time was releasing the brake and slamming on the accelerator to try and eke out every last bit of time on my lap. My friends all doing the same as we raced our karts round and round the track, learning more and more tricks and lines as we went. We spent hours on the same damn tracks - a different person winning each time - all the while blaming it on the fact that some karts were tuned better than others.

How about those conversations with friends for so many hours with little care in the world; hearing their joys and problems. sometimes being able to help solve their issues. Not always successfully the first time - or the second - but I always got there in the end. Listening to them grow as time passed by and learning more about who they were and what drove them. Sometimes it helped me to know what drove myself also. They would become the kind of friends who stuck by you no matter how tough things got, and no matter how far into hell you felt you were.

It’s strange to think that while I have witnessed all these great events, none were my own story. Each and every one of them, witnessed through a screen as I merely commanded where to go and with little control over the outcome.

Each adventure or story being solidified into my memory each time I put the gamepad down or picked it back up for a second playthrough.

Sometimes it’s too easy to remember the worlds at our fingertips and forget the one in front of our eyes.