"You don't like any of your games."

The quote in the title was from my fiance, who uttered it after putting up with hours of me complaining about some particular games. At the time I found it subtly hilarious, but now feel that it's increasingly poignant... in a dark, tongue-in-cheek kind of way.

These past couple weeks since the semester ended, I've decided it would be good to finish playing through all the games in my collection in which I have yet to finish. Actually, calling the games I own a "collection" is absurd, because I feel that the term implies that there must be some sort of cohesive theme. When really, a surprising percentage of the games I own seem to have been purchased sporadically with little rhyme or reason. This has lead me to into numerous situations in which I began playing through a game, found no incentive to finish, and thus said game ends up gathering dust on my shelf for years. Typically the lack of incentive came from how often these randomly selected games ended up being completely uninspiring wastes of time (i.e., big slices of fecal surprise). These past weeks have only been a reminder of that, as my patience has been tested every time I've picked up a controller.

I thought this was worth sharing, because it has reminded me of what I can and can't stand about less than perfect games. And as we shall see, many of the games I love the most are far from perfect. It's been interesting to see how many flawed mechanics or half-baked ideas I can suffer before my reason for playing a game becomes lost or desperate, and also, it's been somewhat educational to find how much less of said bullshit I can tolerate as I've gotten older. I guess it's always good to go back and review, problem is now I'm a bit intimidated about going back and playing many of the obscure games that I've claimed as some of my all time favorites.

Perhaps it's time to dust off the beloved ones and get ready to dash away the good (albeit cloudy) memories. Should be interesting.