The games began to overshadow my thoughts of the real world, mental images and dreams. Playing for such a prolonged time, I found myself thinking about ways different shapes in the real world can fit together to create an imagined world, such as the cereal boxes on a supermarket shelf or the local brothel at the end of the street. In this sense, the gaming effect became a form of nightmarish habit. I would dream about strange landscapes and mutated animals when drifting off to sleep or see images of falling specks of colour at the edges of my visual field or when I closed my eyes. The gaming effect was now a form of hallucination or hypnagogic imagery. After becoming decreasingly interested in the accuracy, intensity, and frequency of the real world around me, I began building my own utopian environment by the means of algorithms and fractals. I suggested to my sensory memories to lie down and return to a world of social interaction, with boundaries, that limit the flat screen.