Looking at this carpet, I felt my life was complete. Handing the cash over, I welcomed the carpet into my warm embrace and took it back to my desolate apartment, laying it carefully down on my bare, cool wood floor. Clutched in my right hand was $7500 dollars in cash – the last of my savings, which was supposed to be used to furnish my empty one-room apartment. I approached Shadik and his carpet once again, but this time it was different. No thought, no experience, no drug could free me from this desire, until one day I decided I had had enough. But the seed of my ruin had been planted, and before I knew it, thoughts of his magnificent carpet swirled endlessly around my head. Every day he asked, and every day I politely declined. He insisted his carpet was the best around, and, despite its lofty price, was a great investment. I had bought it new from Shadik, a vendor who I passed every day on my walk to work. After completing the game for the first time, I soon found myself lying face down on my wretched carpet once again, inhaling the sweat-infused fibers of my Persian carpet. Although the flame of my unabridged passion for this sentient sponge shall not cease to squelch my thirst for purpose in this fleeting existence, my impression of this game left me feeling extremely uninspired.
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