When I woke up on the worst day of my life, my first thought of the morning was about how much my life actually ruled. I really felt that I enjoyed everything in life, and every single day was a pleasure to live. Happy I grabbed my defect glasses and, with big enthusiasm, I ran down the stairs from my room to start another glorious day. As I sat myself down to take a dump, which I usually do first thing in the morning, I said to myself: "Is there really anything at all that isn't absolutely perfect in my life at the moment?". While the shite was dropping down to its destination, I shook my head, "No, my life is perfect indeed."
For the moment, I didn't want to do anything else but to continue with my writing. My upcoming science fiction novel had occupied my whole week, and it looked like it would keep me busy for the entire summer that now was starting to show its face. I realized that I was no longer living in this "ordinary" world, but instead in a universe created by myself, and that I surely loved it that way. And if, for some reason, I didn't feel like writing, I would have had millions of other interesting things to do in the ordinary world. A big amount of very interesting projects on the computer awaited me, and I awaited a Sega Dreamcast to arrive at my house within a day or two. But my computer was screaming for my attention. A couple of half-made drawings that finally started to look good were waiting to be finished, a lot of new texts for my homepage were nearly ready. The commercial website I was making was in its last stage of development. I also had some requested logos to make before the end of the week, so I left the toilet as soon as I finished and went into my room.
The first thing I usually did a new day like this was to check my mail, but the rumour about some new virus had frightened me for the first time in my life. My buddy and I had had a long discussion about it the day before, and I had decided to take a virus threat seriously for once. "It will only be active on one single day, which is tomorrow, and if you get it, it will delete every file on your HD! Is it worth it?" My brain started to work a bit harder for a few seconds, not because I believed that I would get some lame virus, but to reconsider if it really was necessary to risk everything for one single day offline, if there was really such a dangerous virus out there. "OK, I won't jeopardize my whole HD, which in fact is my whole life you know, I'll just check my mail and comrades on IRC tomorrow then. I would commit suicide instantly if something like that would happen to me!!" I remembered our discussion the day before and turned on the computer to start making some logo instead of checking mail.
Within five disgusting seconds my entire life changed. "Operating system not found, what!?!?". It seemed totally impossible! It just couldn't happen, it was that day the virus would infiltrate HDs!! And I hadn't been online!!! Becoming very anxious, I checked all the cables for the HD, but nothing was wrong. Suddenly I remembered. Two of the eight mails I had received the day before had come from unknown people, and one of them had an unrecognized attachment! I recollected that it was a very strange mail from some foreign guy, and even a big spam! It had to be the murderer of my HD, the murderer of my life...
As you may understand, I got incredibly furious. Not because I had been such a stupid ass to check that lame mail (which was quite easy to do using the "next" option), but due to the fact that I didn't have one single backup disk of anything important! The only thing I could do was to scream, and to scream loud. I tried my best to scream out all my hatred towards the virus creating megalamer, but it didn't work. I really don't know why, but my younger brother tends to "forget" one of his three Soft Air Guns in my room. To guess a bit, I think it is to make me remember that he has another two lying in his own room, fully loaded and prepared to fight me if by chance I was getting him annoyed. Still feeling hatred and anger, I grabbed the Soft Air Gun and ran down the stairs screaming out loud while I started to shoot my brothers with it on their naked skin. I can assure you that they joined me in the screaming! A very childish and evil act, I know, but it also was incredibly effective to say the least. So I continued singing my song of anger, and they started to sing along in pain.
To conquer my own destructive feelings, I decided to take a long walk. After some hours of moving my feet, I sat myself down on a big stone in the forest I was walking in. I had discovered myself having three single choices what to do with the rest of my life.
1. To commit suicide at once. Just smash my head into the stone I was sitting on, and to smash it hard!
2. To commit suicide within a short period of time, but to do something cool or important first. I've always thought that if I died in my early years of life (I'm 18), I should die for something cool. For example, to get slaughtered while pissing on the sacred stone of Khaba in Mekka or similar, hehe...
3. To be man enough to start all over again, or maybe to change my lifestyle. Stop sitting in front of a computer all days, and instead pull some nice girl from the outside world to get busy with? My last girl conquest was through email, and when she was totally in love with me, I finally got a postcard from her with her picture on it. We had been mailing for some weeks and I really liked her as a person in all ways. And I had decided that if she looked nice, I would bring her home to my heart. I anxiously opened the postcard, and guess what happened? I puked, literally! And I'm about to puke even now when I think about it! What would you have chosen?
I'm at option three right now (no girl chasing though), but it feels like I'm getting closer to the second option sometimes (especially when I think of my Dreamcast - still hasn't arrived). My 100+ pages novel, or "published book" like it should have been as soon as it was finished, is being re-written very slowly, and it is the most boring thing I've ever done in life. The loss of all the stuff, like my big scene gfx collection, over two hundred and fifty megabyte modules, more than two hundred A4 pages with my own texts, my seventeen homepages, all pictures of me and my buddys, my approximately one hundred demos and intros, my own old modules and images, the loss of all the stuff still makes me exteremely sad and angry. Imagine that you started a new kind of company. Your entire life was revolving around it and all your free time was spent on its success. For the money you made you upgraded everything from headquarters to personal, just to become better all the time. When the day you feel that you've really accomplished something arrives, some pathetic loser with nothing to do lights it and makes it burn down, just because he had nothing else to do.
Normally, a person would commit suicide if something like that happened, and everyone would just feel sympathy. But if I killed myself everyone would just think that I was a stupid and a weak coward, "it was just his computer, so what?", even though I think we would've felt quite the same feelings of loss, meaninglessness and pain.
But what's making me even more furious is that he just got three years in prison, and that there is nothing I can do about it! Three! He almost killed me! Shall I commit suicide and write a final letter to the human race and tell them that he was the reason I died, that he himself in fact murdered me so the he gets a harder penalty? What about all the other sixty million people that got the CIH virus like I did? Why can't someone just torment that lame Japanese virusmaker (probably Quake'er too, hehe...) for the rest of his pathetic and miserable life? But I guess that all of his victims are as powerless as I am.
- Morph/Section 8 & Hotline/Acidrip/Trinity