by Vixiena Vulpestasia Marovich, Emotional Cartographer, Burrow Resident, Level 32-ish
I’ve always liked single-player games.
They’re quiet. Predictable. No one asks me to join a party or speak in general chat. If I mess up, no one notices. If I win, no one claps. It’s like journaling with a controller.
But after a while, the silence stopped feeling like comfort and started feeling like dust. I’d complete the quest, slay the beast, rescue the thing—but the celebration echoed back to me like a joke no one heard. I stopped pressing screenshot because there was no one to say, “Look what I did.”
So, I reinstalled World of Warcraft.
Not because I wanted glory.
Not because I missed the grind.
But because, in some weird, pixelated way, MMOs feel like the realest fiction.
They’re filled with people who are also looking for something.
Except now I’m back… and somehow still alone.
Everyone moves so fast.
They know the meta. They speak in abbreviations. They queue for things I’ve never heard of, then disappear before I can whisper “nice cloak.”
I follow them anyway. I dance at inns. I wave at strangers. I stand on cliffs like I’m waiting for a cutscene that never comes.
And it’s not that anyone’s rude.
It’s that no one sees me.
I’m not mad. Just… tired in that gentle, cardigan-wearing kind of way.
So I wrote a song.
Here’s the song:
🎧Patch Notes for a Feeling I Can’t Name
It’s about what it’s like to queue for connection but end up looting solitude.
It’s about rerolling your character hoping they’ll feel less lonely than the last one.
It’s about talking to NPCs longer than you talk to real people.
It’s not a sad song, really.
It’s just… honest.
If you’ve been here before, you might remember my last two:
→ Secondhand Stars – the one where I processed heartbreak like a patch update that never installed properly.
→ The Moon Is Just a Sad Lantern – a quiet night song for those of us who wave at the moon and expect nothing in return.
So, if you’re out there—standing alone in a capital city, or healing randoms who never say thank you, or whispering to your vanity pet because they’re the only one who sticks around—just know:
I see you.
I’ve probably waved at you already.
And I’ll keep logging in, just in case you wave back.
—Vixie 🦊
Lyrics to Patch Notes for a Feeling I Can’t Name
[Verse 1]
I made a new character to escape my old plotline,
Gave her better posture and an emotional crit buff.
Named her something soft, like “Maybe” or “Someday,”
Logged in at dawn and pretended that was enough.
I wandered the map like it meant something secret,
Side questing for closure in zones I’ve never seen.
But every NPC just repeats their same greeting,
And the loot drops keep giving me gloves I don’t need.
[Pre-Chorus]
I joined a party once,
But they moved too fast and talked in pings.
I lagged behind, looting metaphors,
And tripped on invisible things.
[Chorus]
I’m searching for something I don’t have a name for,
A mount, maybe? Or peace? Or just better boots?
I’ve checked every vendor and whispered to statues,
But the answer’s not sold in the capital’s roost.
I keep rerolling classes, respec-ing my soul,
Looking for meaning in a patch I can’t scroll.
Is it love? Is it lore? Is it just poor design?
Or a quest line I skipped…
That was always mine?
[Verse 2]
My inventory’s full of weird expectations,
Some lint, a fish, and a broken trinket called “hope.”
I’ve got three kinds of currency but no real connection,
And a mount that looks cool but just runs into slopes.
I whisper to guildies I’ve never quite friended,
They tell me to join voice but my mic always breaks.
So I type out a joke with too many ellipses,
And log out mid-raid for emotional stakes.
[Pre-Chorus]
I keep hearthstoning home,
But the innkeeper doesn’t remember me.
I wave at questgivers too long,
Like they’ll say something new eventually.
[Chorus]
I’m looking for something that’s not in the guidebook,
A bugged-out encounter with meaning or fate.
I’ve opened the map and it just says “you are here,”
But I don’t know if “here” is early… or late.
I keep looting regrets and equipping mistakes,
Selling my joy for small vendor takes.
Is it peace? Is it plot? Is it just bad terrain?
Or a boss fight with feelings…
That won’t drop the name?
[Bridge]
Maybe I’m built for soloing sorrow,
A reclusive support class in overleveled grief.
But I still join the world events, once in a while,
Just to feel like a myth, or at least a motif.
[Final Chorus]
So I’ll queue for connection on alt number seven,
Wearing nothing but hope and half-stale resolve.
Let the servers be buggy, the story unfinished—
I’ll keep logging in
Until something evolves.
I don’t need a title, a castle, or fame…
Just one line of dialogue
That knows my name.
