You can find the text logs here. They exist in all their splendor, piles upon piles of data. It’s amusing how much we like data. No other animal seems to really give it much thought. They act, examine, and then decide whether or not they will make that action again in the future. A simple relationship. We mull, mull for hours at a time on the smallest of things. Many people, especially in this new age, seem crippled by the desire to mull. It’s a great word, one that tends to be used in hyperbole. When someone thinks about something slightly more than not-at-all, they might say “I’ll mull it over.”
In reality the true mulling happens over the slightest of slights. Those little nagging moments in your life. Arguments that you suddenly realize could have gone another way if you had zigged instead of zagged. Random posts from random people in random places across the internet drive up ire and discourse. People digitally shouting back and forth with the ultimate prize being nothing but lost moments of their life. These are things I try to avoid now, occasionally my baser instincts kick in and I fall towards the darkness. Once that happens I avoid the service involved altogether until enough other updates have happened that that dark place is pushed far down my history to never be seen again.
The monotony of raiding sort of reminds me of this. Fighting the same bosses over and over is a bit like mulling. It drags on and on and the final consequence is rarely anything of import. You awake one day and realize that you’ve mulled so long that you forgot to act. Those minutia of moments in your life where your health and your desires matched up fall apart. It’s a moment we shouldn’t regret because it is a moment that nearly every living person across the whole of our history has experienced. But we regret it all the same. Those that have not are merely too young. There will come that day where they awake, glassy eyed, staring at their ceiling and they will know that the last day was yesterday.