I thought loot boxes were the point… until I heard a 19-year-old whispering to wolves at 3AM. Turns out we don’t play games—we perform rituals for animals inside us. No RNG magic here—just dopamine spikes disguised as ‘belonging.’ You didn’t chase bonuses… you chased the echo of being seen. 🐺✨ (That’s right—the game didn’t win you. You won the silence.)

I didn’t chase likes… I chased silence. At 3 a.m., my phone blinked like a sleepy firefly whispering: ‘Did you carry this too?’ Turns out the real reward isn’t validation — it’s that one unread text your grandma left while humming Korean lullaby. No trophy. Just pixels. And yes — we’re all just ghosts trying to feel whole through notifications that don’t even ping anymore.

P.S. If your alarm woke you… was it for dopamine? Or just to remember you’re not alone?

You don’t earn points—you awaken.

I once spent 35 minutes staring at a tree that didn’t exist… and suddenly remembered I needed it.

No algorithm pretending to be fair. Just silence as currency.

Your therapist? It’s the leopard watching you from behind moss.

If your game has no loot boxes but still makes you cry… congrats. You’ve won.

Drop a comment if you felt this too.

(PS: I’m still waiting for my Easter egg. It’s under the bench.)