Amidst the drugged induced state of a medicine cocktail I suddenly discover why Solitaire is found on almost every computer. And iPod.
Today while I was plagued by the customary insomnia that characterises unresolved issues and lengthy inner monologues, I turned on the iPod and started to play, only to wish that problems could be dealt with like a Solitaire game; that all issues be shuffled away into straight organised rows of cards, and put in their proper place, without the messiness of emotions or words. And if you feel the game is not going to end well, you can just start a new game, without feeling any sense of loss.
Solitaire addiction is as such: It makes you think that you need it to live, to fill those blank moments, to get your mind away from stuff. In those moments when you start the game, it makes you think it's the world. Anything less than total commitment, it doesn't accept, and then you lose. That's what makes Solitaire addiction tiring. Blank moments no longer belong to yourself, because Solitaire is always at the edge of your mind pestering to be let in, tempting you with the prospect of winning the next game.
Then a phone call comes, or an sms, from a world where Solitaire doesn't belong to, (because Solitaire demands solitude/isolation) which puts things into perspective, because you see that things are still happening all around, things still have to be done, people still demand a piece of different parts of you.
And when you finally return back to the game where you left off, you find that it seems to have changed - the cards don't seem to belong in the right place, you no longer understand why you put certain cards at certain places, you forget what your next move is. The game rejects you for leaving it alone, even if it was for that few moments, and there is no option of restart, only the option of starting a new game of reshuffled cards in a totally different combination.
You frown slightly, wondering if it's worth continuing.
And then you turn it off.
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