My Affair with Computers

When I was younger I used to spend a lot of hours playing video games. It was the best thing in the world then. It’s the one thing I look forward to most in the morning, and when I was in school bored listening to my teacher. It could be my addiction that has cost me my examination marks. You see, playing computer games was one thing that I thought I want to spend my whole life doing. The idea of being able to play an entirely different life, a hero, appeals to me so much more than my ordinary life. I even thought I will align my life achievements to creating an immersive and multiplayer educational game. Like “The Elder Scrolls Morrowind” but with real plants, real people speaking English, and morals to teach us about society. Of course that never happened. There was no way I could have built such a sophisticated software. Even by today’s standards with all the highly simplified Integrated Development Environments. “Aren’t computers meant to make our lives easier? Didn’t the guy on the Microsoft TV commercial say that?” I would think and it’s partly true.

Then came my teenage years, and the popularity of the Internet started growing. People started being frequently online. Google started becoming relevant and useful. I started searching the Internet for Range Rovers, Defenders, videos on cars off roading and Music Videos. I’d marvel at the ability of the artists to provide free songs on YouTube. Most didn’t have videos like we do today, it used to show only a picture of the album with the music. I grew up with the Internet, learning the culture of the world through it. (Well, maybe the culture defined by the Internet, like the Nerdfighters, Brotherhood 2.0). I started to realise the power one wields in being the Internet service provider. The Internet was unstoppable and everyone benefits in life and work from it. Those who are afraid of technology, has to live through it. I have an innate feeling that our generation will usher in a new age. Different in comparison to previous generations because we have the aid of the Internet.


Late-night laughter on a city street always made her nervous…

Late-night laughter on a street always made her nervous…

The creepy laughter echoed as if haunting her as she walks down the alley sending goosebumps to her skin. “This is Milano Cove”, Melissa stammered. There couldn’t possibly be any spirits… Grandma’s superstitions were but a belief. Perhaps it could be the movie, or perhaps I needed a break.., she thought.

Milano Cove is the safest city in Philippines considering the high taxes the residents have to pay to the authorities as a contribution to the country and to keep potent unwanted threats at bay. Only those who can afford the lavish lifestyle stays here. The place was known to be quiet and seldom do cars pass by, whirling dead leaves in the air. Recently, Lelissa has noticed the influx of younger families who have their teenagers causing noise pollution or public nuisance as they often hung out in groups, in cafes or in bars. Though the alleys were dark with many hidden corners for intrusion robbers often take advantage of, residents here can expect to walk down them confidently knowing help is a mere minute away.

“Watching horror movies is the best way to relieve stress because it’s like riding a roller coaster down the apex to the bottom.” Pricilla always declared. “You study too much, Melissa. Those eye bags are hideous! You need to take a break!”

Melissa was never a fan of horrow genres. Infact, she had nightmares spanning a week right after watching each scary film. She enjoys comedies best, or romance movies, but only action thrillers put her at the edge of her seat. Even after explaining to her cliques of her dislike, she was dragged into the cinema together with them, assured that she will sit through just fine.

Not only was the laughter in horror films scary, when Melissa was younger, she went through a horrifying experience that left her emotional stigmas from then on. As she was quiet and always by herself, the bullies frequently surrounded her at corners and hurled insults at her, “What fuzzy hair you have, you must never have combed them!” and sometimes “What a loner, I never knew you existed!”. The others would laugh and that horrific moment has been with her ever since…

Trapped in her memories, as she walked on soullessly, the laughter seemed more distinct. Nearing her home the lights were switched off. She was not sure what was going on, but her curiosity

“The novel is an event in consciousness. Our aim isn’t to copy actuality, but to modify and recreate our sense of it. The novelist is inviting the reader to watch a performance in his own brain.” – George Buchanan