I'm recovering from that oh-so-predictable brief but intense bout with depression. Most people who, as they say, "have issues", get depressed at Christmas. I'm fine with Christmas, but my birthday brings me into an annual sharp, deep funk. This year I had just two bad days; in the past, it was the entire month of November up until the 20th, the actual day. So it was an improvement, but still a hard time for me.
There's a constant distraction, though, taking my mind off my own personal neurosis and troubles: the world as we know it is coming to an end very soon. The world has been racked by horrific earth quakes, and the residents have been struggling to put out the fires in their home cities. Everyone is keyed up and trying hard to prepare for what will come, because everyone knows there's no safety any more. It really is the end of the world as we know it. The World of Warcraft, that is.
Blizzard, the creators of Warcraft, made a barbaric yet oddly cozy land, Azeroth, where for many years I have journeyed, quested, fought, made jewelry for profit, and bantered with friends. And now they're taking that part of the world which was my home, the base of the Horde, and splitting it right open, destroying much of it. Entire towns, towns I used to call my home, will be lost. An entire region, one of my personal favorites where my paladin spent an untold amount of time, will be sunk permanently under water. My people will become refugees.
They are calling it "Cataclysm", and it's kind of pissing me off. This may indeed sound asinine or freakishly geeky, but I have a real affection for these places which are about to be destroyed. Spend a lot of time galloping on an oversized pink bird around a beautiful desert, a desert which reminds you of the ones you used to camp in before you gave birth to whiny urban children who hate road trips and bitch endlessly about the lack of television if they are removed from the city limits, and you'll become attached. Even the Sober Husband, a man who played for only a few months before getting over it, has affection for the Crossroads, a place where he quested as an orc warrior before quitting the game. Once my Alliance guild, when I crossed over the dark side to level a Draenei mage for Lola, raided the Crossroads, and the Sober Husband was weirdly and genuinely distressed. "Don't kill that guy; he was our friend! I used to buy from that guy!
If someone who only played for a few months can have a sentimental attachment to fictional characters in a computerized town, imagine how I feel. I know it's silly, I know I'm going to enjoy playing the new content that comes with this upheaval, but dammit, why'd it have to be the Barrens and Thousand Needles? Why couldn't it have been Silithus or Dun Morogh, places I would not miss one bit?
I recommend you take a trip to a rock store and search for a rock from your favorite place(s). You'll know it when you see it right? Then you'll have a piece to hold and remember that can transport you back as needed.
Oh... You should take my previous comment in the spirit it was inteneded. Much love. And gravy.
But I feel fine...
I think they should sink Silithus - but not before they blow it up. Hate that place...
Also, I think Mankrik's wife should be a raid boss. I hope that quest survived.
It is funny cause I've been singing that song as I rode around surveying the damage. I am most disturbed by the removal of ports from Dalaran. Thankfully for me, the land I love the most, Hellfire Pensuila, remains intact. I am looking forward to the new content but damn I have a lot to do before it launches. It feels like work, lol. and whats up with the ambulance chasing mages charging 200g for porting you somewhere? Highway robbery if you ask me.
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