Do You Ever Feel Like Mario?

Do you ever feel like a Mario character? Like the moment when you'd fall into that quicksand in a sand world level and you'd begin to sink. The music would speed up and whoever was playing beside you would frantically scream at you to jump up. To try and worm your way back to safety out of the honey-yellow doom pounding you to the empty abyss of loss off-screen. You would jump and jump, hysterically striking the button. Your little heart thrashes into your ribs, slamming for freedom from the torrent of adrenaline. Imagine that sinking feeling becoming a rising tide, as the sky rains cold, dark blue water, lifting the blanket of water to your neck. Evermore threatening to rise just a small amount more, to engulf your cold, sweat-covered head in the heavy sand of the ocean. Now imagine that that feeling never goes away. It is a shadow nuzzled in your stomach, like a warm bite of freshly baked bread, only the baker lied to you. The bread was perverted, instead of warm or comforting, it was ridden with mold and maggots, now wiggling in your mouth and down to your stomach. Feasting and scratching parts of you to feed their empire of spawns. The water tips back and forth on your neck, promising a bitter end of ballooned lungs and swollen veins ripped apart by streams of pressure. The water plays like a politician. It vows to act and bonds you to the fear of possibility. Often the water prattles but lays dormant. Leaves you to rest in unrest. Sometimes it seems more a torture to be kept dread than to let you sink. On the occasion that it decides to act, it is an immersion worse than your nightmares could dream of. It is cold and quiet. Calm, but it leaves you on edge nonetheless. It is like bathing in an endless ocean of dark blue ice that heats slowly, more and more until it burns and boils. A soft light lays supplely on the water's surface, promising relief. The pain is infinite and immeasurable and then without warning, it all comes to an end. Then is not a good feeling, but not entirely bad either. It is a sort of numbness that stands still, a forgotten memory on a shelf. A sore echo of the past, raw and empty. Then the shadow creature of ocean and sand nestles back into the pit of your stomach. It intertwines with your veins and welds to your withering, wilting heart. A parasite you were not meant to be born with. A curse grown within you, from the past pains and suffering of a child. These are your feelings that share your mind and leach your resolve. Or something like that anyway. So I ask again, do you ever feel like a Mario character?