Tetris is a psychotic game.
Let me explain how it works:
Enter you, just a person trying to have a good time in the world and the world says “Here are some weirdly shaped blocks,” and you think “this is going to be fun.”
It’s like childhood. There’s things to do but there’s no accountability. It’s all a bunch of juice and sandboxes and crying and leaving sweatshirts places and having someone else retrieve them for you.
Yeah, four lines at a time in that sweet spot where you get the long Tetris stick of divinity and you’re just thinking, oh man, there’s never going to be anything on the bottom of this screen. No baggage, no accumulation of junk. Just a pristine surface I can ice skate along, frictionless, until the sun sets over the west and the clouds carry me to bed.
Quickly you adjust to being a teenager. Things go a little faster and feel a little more uncomfortable. Everything is changing. You’re growing hair in certain places and things aren’t always sounding right as they come out of your mouth when you’re near that really popular girl and no matter how sure you are that you can rotate that oblong piece enough times all of a sudden it’s upside down and you have this weird empty space underneath some accumulated detritus and this is your first taste of consequence as Jennifer walks away and you realize that not even the long Tetris stick of divinity can go back in time and change what you’ve mucked up.
There’s a couple layers of sediment at the bottom of your life now but you just think of it as a new starting point. “Everything above this certain line is the past and it’s really everything I do from now one that matters” you tell yourself. Sure, your baseline is much closer to total destruction than ever before, but that’s okay, because now you’re in control. Now. Finally. After all this time you’ve finally figured it out.
Time compresses and you think you might be having fun and as a result, it flies by. Suddenly, all this flying compressed time seems to be a bit overwhelming. Your fingers aren’t what they used to be, your eyes are a little weary, your patience is failing and your confidence that you know what you’re doing is starting to actually set you back.You start to realize your mortality. You have moments of overwhelming joy when you properly use your long Tetris stick of divinity, but let me tell ya, it ain’t what it used to be and your wife will even tell you that if you ask her. You realize that you’re now applauding yourself wildly for things you used to do in your sleep. Back when thing were simple. Keep trudging along, though.
It’s really only a matter of time now and you know it. You’ve seen others before you just give up and let it all come crashing down but you’re different. You can’t make any more mistakes. You’ve made them all so far, all by yourself. Now you’re right up against that top wall and those baselines you used to call your past, those things that you said you’d learn from, they’re all basically just sitting there, unevenly distributed blocks just staring at you and smiling and nipping at your heels like ravenous wolves. The ghosts you used to thank for providing you with knowledge are now immovable skeletons that have piled up so quickly in your closet that the only thing you can see anymore is the dangling chain from the ceiling lamp.
You take one final stab at life and the flickering beam from a flashlight with a dying battery is taunting you with false promises of hope. You exert all your energy, your hands and eyes and mind are acting on their own as the minutes and hours and days blend together so smoothly that you no longer even see a sunrise or a sunset, but instead just varying shades of quickly moving gray through your decaying receptors.
And then you die. And everything you’ve built is gone. Not even a monument to your failure remains. It’s just nothing forever.
Want to play again?