It's late. I'm deathly tired. My eyes are scattering windows from across the field to make out the unsuspecting victim's skull I'm about to eradicate. As I begin the gruesome deed, a random peon knifes me from behind, throwing me into a panicked state only to be followed by the equally intense feeling of rage.

The inner me realizes how stupid I'm being.

"It's just a game you idiot."

I know this. But it doesn't help settle my nerves. It's almost three a.m. and I have to wake up in four hours. The unconscious decision of playing one more game for the last two hours is countered with the realization that even if I shut down the console at this moment, I won't be able to get to sleep anyway.

The FPS (first-person shooter) has been my go-to ever since I reemerged into the gaming world. Once I figured out the concept behind the controls, I was hooked. The controls transfer easily from game to game, and I eat up every title I can. Late nights countered with a restful late wake-up were the cherry on the sundae of my weekends. This turned into a week night addiction that started to reshape my level of awareness throughout the day. I'd get the sleepy shakes. You know, the shakes that happen in the middle of the afternoon when you trick yourself into playing one last game for three hours straight. Or do you?

My FPS addiction started small; a light late night meditation that eased me into my bed with a smile on my face. I was a weekend gaming warrior that started dabbling at it during the week as well. Why not? I wasn't hurting anybody right? But slowly, I started to notice the change. Those sweet weekends I'd jump online to play a few games after getting back from the bar have now sparked an out of control sleep deprived product of the shallow sleepless me. I'm stressed. I'm weak. I'm frail.

Still, while I write this tell tale of my meager self caught in the web of FPS repetition, I know the minute I shut this computer down the console will be starting up. The calming sound of the Xbox 360 logo will slither onto the screen only to be followed by the theme music to Modern Warfare 2.

When I wake up in the morning and get on that train, I'll hate myself. The mirror reflection will be me in shape, but in mind of someone distant. This shell of me will don a smile throughout the whole day though. You see, on this specific morning, I'll wake up with the memory of calling in my first nuke.