The game is self-defeating. As I sit here crafting the ideal review, I cease to consider the methods and metrics of the ideal game, for I am now the object of consideration. I am in competition with the rubric, and I resent the rubric. I am uninterested in seeing the game improved. I reject rationality, and I refuse to make sense. I refuse to connect with you, the reader. I lack a sense of humor. I am not making a point.
I’m lost in donkey space, drifting further and further away from myself, the game, and everything else, hurtling faster and faster as the universe expends ever more.
10/0
suggestion: golf score