Gabriel Winslow-Yost

6 October 2010

Video games are worth loving, but with this love comes shame. Not passing regret or social embarrassment, but a sharp-edged, physical guilt: the hunch-backed, raw-fingered, burning-eyed pain that comes at the sad and greasy end of an all-night binge. You have ostentatiously, really viciously wasted your life; you might as well have been masturbating for the last nine hours—your hands, at least, would feel better. More…