My roommates and I don’t have the same schedules for anything. Sleep, class, homework, we rarely even eat at the same time. That’s gotten me back into Tetris. I could probably start making model planes, with little jars of paint, and tiny glue sticks. Or maybe I could join one of those clubs where they turn Frisbee into a sport. I mean I could, but for now I think I’ll stick to Tetris, because I believe in Tetris. I’ve been playing this Internet translation of the original game, and I’ve gotten used to it. At this point, I can’t remember much about the Game boy version I grew up on. It’s gone from my memory, so I have nothing to compare this to. I think it’s fine though.
I’m listening to some music, and enjoying some Tet-try, but every time I shift shapes, Tetris makes a sound. Little arcade sounds I really don’t care for, and when you eliminate some wall space, you hear an even louder sound . The music I’m listening to comes from my computer as well, so I either deal with both at once (the music and the arcade sound effects) or I mute everything. This song is too good. But who can compare to Tetris? I mean, I’ve put hours into songs, weeks into an album, but those songs are nothing but notes and rhythms stranded together. Next to Tetris it all seems stupid, and nearly pointless. Can the dissection of one retro video game really put my whole life into question? Have I been getting enough sleep? Was it something I ate? Na. I’m just having a Tetris kind of day.
I once left the apartment after an hour or two of Tetris, only to find that everything had turned into falling cubes. The unfinished condo building across the street (currently a hollow frame) was the first thing I noticed, and that easily transformed itself into a wide, life sized version of street Tetris. I pictured fifteen pieces falling at once, me trying to organize them rapidly. Is that the pressure an architect must bear? Watching the whole project fall in front of him, piece by piece.
Wow, what a job.
Every individual shape has at least two different positions it can be shifted into, except the square of course, that square is very set in it’s ways. Among those pieces, I have noticed they showcase every possible shape you could create with just four cubes. You may have to draw a diagram to understand what I’m talking about. Sometimes Tetris gets stuck in my head. When I lay in bed, I can imagine a whole game of Tetris, I’m serious. Often times it’ll be an impossible game. I’ll keep repeating the same move, and then it resets itself. Or I’ll keep getting the same piece I can’t find a place for. Yeah, mental Tetris is a rush. I guess I may have over thought things a bit, but I think it’s okay, because I believe in Tetris.
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