Born out of mud and sand I rose, feeble and malnourished. Almost instinctively I suckled at the teat of mine milkmaid, withdrawing the sweet life force, granting me strength.
It was no such wonder I developed a strong addiction to this seemingly bountiful source of energy. Rapturous as I was, all good things must come to an end. I was but one-and-ten when she was cozened from me. My fury that day knew no bounds, I kicked, bit , maimed and slew those closest to me. After reflecting on what I had done I felt a seed of remorse. Tried as I might to justify what I did, the guilt I felt was soon full blown.
They were dark times for me, but I found my solace in playing Chess. I experience a tremendous feeling of satisfaction with every piece I move, and convulsively gasp whenever I take a piece.
This is my calling, the gods want to to play Chess, although it has brought me closer to the divine, it has not removed the demons of my past.
I play for fun, I play for glory, and I play for those that I have lost.
tl;dr i play chess