Let me give you a little insight into my working week. I work Monday to Friday evenings, which means my weekends, though compromised by an overlap into the Saturday morning, results in me retaining much of that time. A luxury few are afforded these days. Albeit in a weary state of lucidity. So the job I do comprises general warehouse chores, but also requires a moderate exposure to external labour. Which when you reside in a country as perennially saturated as England, means you get wet. A lot! Now we are provided with protective clothing that does somewhat reduce the misery of hauling large, cumbersome materials through rain filled chasm on the yard’s surface, that would have drowned Gene Kelly if he had attempted to dance in. But the clothing doesn’t completely negate the temultuous weather either. So you can imagine my much renowned sunny disposition being somewhat eclipsed by a night in torrential rain. Which means it’s important to keep your spirits up wherever possible and by whatever means. For me, much of this catharsis comes from gaming.

My partner is routinely perturbed by my incredulous response to going out. A social abnormality I’ve had to suture for most of my adult life. I’m not opposed to human interaction if the conversations are interesting or I’m at least partially inebriated to feign interest, but most discourse I find repetitious. So to relax I play games. They are a suitable balm for the rigours of a long arduous working week. It’s easy to forget the therapeutic pacifying gaming provides, that it almost entirely neutralises any tumultuous events that have afflicted you that week. So I don’t think it is childish to eagerly anticipate a new release such as the remastered “Paper Mario: The Thousand Year Door”. Or even relish in the anticipation of a new game. The comforting embrace of nostalgia offers a relief and a stark reminder that there was a time in your life where the toughest responsibility you had, was what you were going to do with your almost unlimited freedom.

And it’s great you know, to relieve that seemingly brief little snapshot of your adolescence. That escapism goes beyond the simple confines of engaging wholeheartedly in a games world or lore. But can be a manifestation of retreating in a more spiritual capacity. Nostalgia of the purest form really. Memories such as these need to be retained and cherished. Compmentalised recollections that can be accessed at a time, particularly when the weight of the world has grounded you to your knees. And if you can boost these memories via virtual entertainment, then they will remain evergreen. I don’t think it is unhealthy to grasp at these little moments of respite, if it can give you a little boost of adrenaline to the here and now, when things might not always be going your way.