Adventure Calling
No cause to die for
It’s Thursday evening and I’m playing a video game. Loading screen. I’m scrolling Twitter. War is on the timeline. War broke out a few hours ago. I’m bombarded by misinformation. Nobody knows what’s going on. I am in several DM’s, chatting, speculating, being an armchair general. Young men about to achieve the ultimate goal of death in combat. Loading screen is over, I arrange my Minotaur units in a proper formation and win easily. Back to the loading screen. Back to twitter.
Friday, I just got home from work and I have a new match on Bumble. She’s cute, used to play the piano semi-professionally, she says, but gave that up to study marketing. I don’t want to go on another date. I hate dating. I’ve been on dates and I have work to finish. There’s a war going on I need to follow, propaganda to consume and misinformation to inadvertently spread. I’ve got into drinking. Not because of the war. It was my new year’s resolution. I’m starting my video game for the evening.
Monday at work, everyone is talking about the war. My mother got scared by the TV. “Putin wants to bring back the German Democratic Republic, please be safe.” I’m about 2,000 Kilometers away from the frontline. I don’t push her on the GDR point. “Calm down, don’t watch so much television.” One guy at work has become an expert on warfare. He’s got Wikipedia articles with tanks open on his phone and is comparing stats. “Did you know tanks have a barrel diameter this wide?” He makes a circle with his hands then puts the circle over his face. He looks at me. “That’s how big it is.” Later he gets lost in the pages and reads about the Battle of Kursk for the first time in his life. “Wow, that was a lot of tanks!”
It is Tuesday. I’m chatting on Bumble with the pianist. She’s a redhead but I don’t really have preferences when it comes to that. She’s from Georgia (Caucasus) and moved here a decade ago. She tells me Georgia is a little too traditional and religious sometimes. “You can’t be too religious. There is no such thing as too much of God’s love,” I tell her. She sends me the emoji commonly referred to as "Grinning Face with Sweat". By now the war has advanced considerably and I’m loading my save game. Time to game.
Thursday again. The conflict has progressed considerably and so has the war effort on Twitter. I saw an old man at the store who forgot his glasses. His hands were shaking and he asked me which bread was which. Do I want to end up like this? If not, I’m about halfway done with my life. I’m having a total crisis in my head at this realization and for one second I am screaming internally. Let’s go home to the computer. I’m following the war and reading the most ludicrous things. I’m having a good time from the sidelines. I’m sure the guys actually fighting are having a good time as well, whether they know it or not.
On Friday it’s my day off but I end up in a “quick Zoom call to explain something” that lasts three hours. Over the following week, I will steal coffee capsules, pens and a pair of scissors as payment. I haven’t asked her out yet. The ideal time was yesterday. She’s into me. I can still ask her out. We are chatting on Bumble. I don’t want to go on a date. I hate dating. I will ask her out on Sunday. We will do a little afternoon coffee date. But this weekend I’m gaming and browsing Twitter.
War is the only thing that matters in this world. Imagine being a man and never experiencing battle. Sure, it sucks if you get shot in the gut and bleed to death. If I were caught in an artillery bombardment, would I smile? Doubtful. "Suicide survivors" say they regret what they did when they make their misbegotten attempt. Of course they do. It’s a natural reaction. Your body wants to live. But your spirit? You’ve made up your mind. Don’t tell me about valor when I’m bleeding out. We can talk about that when we meet in heaven. Death in combat is not like suicide. It’s the highest "thing" you can do. The ultimate “it’s the thought that counts”-thing. Do you understand? And the thought does count, so large in fact that it is better than doing nothing for 80 years until you expire like a spoiled fruit. Someone should have eaten it when it was ripe, now everyone looks at it with sadness. Your time has passed. What a waste.
It’s Saturday and I’m three days into Lent. I’m doing my own version of Lent because I’m a heretic. I love a sweet drink to my meals, I love liquor in the evening, a beer after work, I drink tea once in a while. My Lent is only drinking water. I mostly drink water anyway but that special flavored drink sometimes, it really does feel good. It’s about giving up a luxury you enjoy. Sacrifice is noble. Theoretically, I could go to this war right now and fulfill my dream, every man’s dream (even if some don’t know it). But I don’t believe in the cause. Battle for the sake of battle has its own marauder-charm. This is not that kind of battle. This is highly propagandized. The foreigners who join this conflict can’t help but brag about it online. I’d be ashamed to fight alongside them. I want my death to be anonymous.
Sunday morning. What am I doing here? It’s 1 am and I went to a club. Sober. Second time (or third?) the clubs have opened up "after" the pandemic. I hate going to clubs. I have autism, I just stand around. Being sober around drunk people is as close to having a superpower as you’re ever going to get. A switch flips in my head. I stop caring. I walk up to girls and say: “Do you want to dance with me? I’m bored.” I dance with a cute girl. She has curly hair. It gets heated and we start making out. I’ve never done this in my life before. “I only came here to dance, I actually have a boyfriend.” My hand leaves her ass. “Haha, I didn’t mean to meet anyone here, I just came here to dance with my friends!” I’m getting myself a bottle of water. My friends are telling me I’m a chad. My ears hurt from the loud music. I’m not that kind of guy. I’m not looking for this.
It is Sunday evening and we have been chatting less. The girl from Bumble, remember her? Cute, redhead, possibly not fully westernized. I blew it. I didn’t respond much over the weekend. She used to text me back within minutes, now it’s many hours. You get a good match and you blow it. I’ve got matches lined up. Maybe there’s a good one among them. I don’t want to go on dates. I don’t want to go to war. I bought a new video game and I’m excited to play it. I have to go to work tomorrow.
But next time. Next time, I’m sure I’ll do it.