Its finally happened.
Somewhere I knew this day would come; inevitable as death, taxes, and the senior citizen assisted living center I'll spend my final days in, my Xbox 360 has succumbed to the Red Ring of Death (RROD) after seven years of faithful service.
It happened while playing Blood Dragon and now that it's finally happened, I realize how much shelf life my 360 still had. Sure, I've had to repair it once and since then it sounds like two baby jet engines trying to hand-wash a feral cat, but it was still serviceable.
While playing Tomb Raider, I had to turn the volume on the television up just to mask the sound of the repaired disc-tray whirring away like an asthmatic VCR, but it still played games. I'm just now realizing what was left of my XBLA library is now gone. Castle Crashers, Mark of the Ninja, and, sadly, Blood Dragon are all gone.
I'm kind of a mess and probably shouldn't spend the night alone. The Kübler-Ross model of grieving limits the stages to a mere five emotional states.
I've come up with seven and expressed them the only way I know how: wrestling GIFs. I'm emotionally stunted and this is the spectrum I'm allowing myself to operate within.