Games, by their very nature, are meant to be fun, right? A quick rifling through dictionary.com asserts that the word itself indeed originated from the antiquated gamen, which meant joy, amusement, and fun. So one naturally assumes that humans invent and participate in games because it is enjoyable to do so. This innate positivity has resulted in games gaining other roles aside from simple entertainment. Children can learn and internalize basic but crucial skills such as reading and mathematics under the pretense of playing a fun game. As people grow, they may also refine and perfect their own skills through games, and boost their self-confidence through victory. People may place material items on the line in a game, sometimes even betting their futures on an unknown outcome. People receive entertainment from participating in such pasttimes, surely enough. Of course, people can receive this joy from a myriad of other activities, such as ruining the lives of others.
People lie and people cheat and people manipulate. We play games with others in order to outwit them, to prove our own superiority, to reap some inane benefit, or merely because we feel like it. We will pierce someone's limbs, string them up on a stage, and watch them dance entirely on a whim. For amusement. We, sometimes for no reason and sometimes for less than a reason, will play games with people's hearts as easily as we roll the dice.
One could say I have a slight problem, an issue, if you will, with this recurrence in human behavior. That would be an understatement.
Alice and Bob are longtime friends with undeniable romantic tension lurking beneath the surface. Bob had a bad day at work and wants to feel better about himself. He tells Alice he loves her, to see how she will react. Alice is overjoyed. Bob does not truly love her.
Already, at my tender age of eighteen, have I witnessed these games being played out. Not all quite so horrible as Bob's gambit, others even worse. I'll admit, I have toyed with others as well, for no particularly good reason. People become cracked and splintered after repeated abuse, just as our game pieces do, so why do we continue? I am still in high school. I, and my fellows, should be surrounded by a positive environment of strong moral convictions, not exposed daily to poisonous moral decay. Maybe I am exaggerating my own circumstances. Perhaps my home is not as bad as it could be, relatively. That is hardly the point.
Why do people, fellow human beings, persist in acting this way? I understand that I am young and trapped within the sheltered bubble of my home suburb. Perhaps I just don't understand how the "real world" works for the complex minds adults possess. However, call me naive, and I'll call you a liar, and you can't deny that. Why can't people just try to be a little more honest with each other?
