How I Broke Down Making My First Game — And Found Freedom in the Jungle Pulse

I made my first game at 2 a.m., headphones on, rain tapping the window like a wild heartbeat.

It wasn’t about RTP or RNG—it was about the quiet after the last spin. The kind of silence where you stop expecting rewards… and start feeling them. My father, a Brooklyn poet, once whispered: ‘The best stories aren’t told—they’re felt through the fur.’ My mother, ex-game designer, showed me pixels that cried when they won.

I tried to ‘optimize’ my way into success—until I realized no algorithm could code courage. The jungle doesn’t care if you have skills. It cares if you show up.

My first ‘Beast King Glory’ wasn’t earned with tokens—it was earned with tears in the dark. That night, I posted my story on TikTok—not as a dev, but as someone who’d been lost in the forest long enough to hear the lions roar.

You don’t need more levels to feel alive. You just need one moment—the right one—where your breath catches fire.

Join me on Discord tonight. We’re not building games. We’re rebuilding souls.