The 60th Fire: A Tale of Streams

in #writinglast year

ff60cover.jpg

I like to write these sort of inner-perspective bullshits every few months or so. Much like the 38th and 20th fires, this one feels more right, more perfected than those earlier attempts to review myself. I once thought about burning the Garbage Man himself, tearing myself from that persona. But the fire must burn, even after the mask has been thrown on it.

Curated Dreams

Opening the box, he was excited at the prospects it held. He wondered how it was going to go, even though he had played the scenarios in his head over and over again.

First, he was to unbox it and ensure that none of the components had broken during transit. Then he would place it upon the spot he had cleared and arrange for it. Finally, he would plug it all in and turn it on.

Blue lights shown and a rainbow of colors spewed from the LEDs on both keyboard and computer.

“New computer!” He screamed, feeling the rush of relief and endorphins that everything was going according to plan. He let himself laugh a bit like Emperor Palpatine.

He started downloading all the programs that were needed to begin the next phase in his plan; Operation Big Papa was a go.

The computer showed no signs of struggle, no whine or sluggishness from programs that would have crashed his old laptop into a mess of burning wires and circuits.

While his old workhorse had done its job admirably, it was being left and passed by the new age of processors and speedier things. If only the world would pick a point to stop and accept that things were fine they were, then perhaps the laptop would have lasted a few more years. But, as it is with all old things, they must soon die. And die it did one day, failing to start up, acknowledging the end of its own era.

That was the push he needed to bite the dollar bullet and trade via currency for a new rig. It wasn't the priciest nor fanciest of models, but it was considerably faster and better suited for his needs. He wasn’t going to watch porno on this one, let me tell you!

The first stream of his, an experiment into new territory for himself went very well. He enjoyed not being constrained to a console or chunky laptop.

But one fear kept nagging at the back of his mind: That self-doubt, that consideration of his own laziness and lack of skill. He was getting better, true, but he knew he had limits of time and motivation. Those fears were small though, far outshined by the pretty colored lights of his new workhorse.

Time had changed men and people. No longer was a person constrained to the limits of their environment and resources, only by the limits of their imagination and fortitude. Many people had many great ideas, just so few actually made them a reality.

He was determined to not become a person of expected mercy. He was to be the force that he wanted, waited for in the world. Such things have a price, his being the cost of labor and work, something he did much of and earned from as well.

When he started this whole thing, he thought he was to be a celebrity, some sort of special person that people from around the world would eagerly listen to and worship. What delusions we allow ourselves.

It took weeks, to months, to the start of years to have a fraction of that. He had a few readers, which was all he needed. For a writer to be, they must be read. And he was read.

He began to put himself out there, as is said, giving more time to things such as game streams and reviews that he thought were funny and interesting.

Now mind you, this was not for everyone and the audience very small. Starting on the backwaters of the internet will do that. But the small exposure allowed himself to be more him, more natural. He enjoyed this new hobby, putting more time into something he could see expanding.

When he began to stream games, it was something he thought he would never do. Not because he despised the act, but because he thought he wasn’t good enough. Who the fuck would watch someone like him stream video games?

It turned out someone did.

This viewer was a best friend, one who endured the lame jokes, the awful quality, the uneven banter, and the painful journey of someone learn to do a thing for the first time.

This friend inspired and stuck with, helping to create, to shape, to grow. He would always be thankful to his most loyal viewer and truest friend.

Continuing on, things began to move. He would stream on Twitch, upload to Dlive, get a few shekels from Steemit, and parcel out reviews on Minds and Youtube. He enjoyed it, but he was still an amateur learning the trade, sharpening his skills, adapting his craft.

This new computer was a leap for him, the act of spending money on a hobby after being at it for a while means that you’ve improved, that you are ready to grow and become better. Some people buy the fanciest tool before knowing how to even use it. He had started with basic devices and was now working with finer, more pricey pieces of equipment. And he was using and adapting them fast.

As he continued typing on the multi-colored keyboard, finishing up the first story written with this fancy new tool, this PC, he wondered what to tackle next. Would be the streams, the content, the reviews, the edited videos be of increasing quality? He had options, something he knew he would have to thin as well. A tool is good for specific tasks. He needed to become more specific himself.

Striking out from here, he felt more than ready for the next step of Operation Big Papa. He had a boxing match in October, a weekly schedule in May, and the unlimited opportunity of creating and commenting on the world and himself.

“This is it”, he thought to himself. “This is where the real fun begins.”

He continued.

#TeamDaddy