Sometimes it’s the little things, the specific things that give us a sort of relaxation, a contented feeling that, even though it may be short term, is enough for us to forget some of our pains and issues, not have to think about what kind of problems we have to face that are large and looming before us. Part of the reason why people give advice to try to take a mental break once in a while is so that we’re allowed to reset ourselves, focus on something trivial, and hopefully come back stronger, both mentally and physically.
Life is sometimes filled with experiences at times of running in place, of trying to get somewhere where you feel like you need to go, but never really getting there, and seeming like you might be doing a bit of aimless wandering in doing so. We all go through these experiences in life, and they can, with not so surprisingly reliability, be annoying to our forward progress.
Sometimes it’s the simplest presentations that provide some of the most interesting and impactful messages with this project, which is why this particular entry is impressive to me. It consists only of two shapes, one solid circle you control and an ever-expanding outline circle, and with a simple mechanic of getting out of the outlined circle there’s a message sent about getting out of something that restricts you and expanding your horizons.
Travel has been an ongoing topic in the series lately, and this entry adds to it by providing a simple game wherein the object is to board the train headed for another destination. While the presentation was simple, the message being sent at least from my perspective was much more complex, and there was a lot about it that struck me as part of the message. The action of boarding the train was only one part of how this entry decided to communicate its message
I’d probably never really do terribly well in the wild without much equipment or gear. I’ve always known in my heart that I was very much a city life person, so anything having to do with roughing it or camping out in nature hasn’t always been my bag. There isn’t anything wrong with those that do, but in this case this is just a realization of my own limitations when it comes to my skillset.
There’s a curious kind of ebb and flow when it comes to the pain we feel over losing someone precious to us when it is still fresh in our minds – fresh being the first few years or so. We feel that pain keenly and sharply when it first occurs, let it ebb a bit as we eventually get on with our lives, and then feel it distinctly again when the anniversary of that loss passes by us again. During this time, I’ve found that people tend to attach a bit of ritual to the process of remembering this lost person, whether it’s a visit somewhere, an activity once shared, or in the case of the developer, a changing of flowers.
There are a couple different ways to live life, whether that is isolated or with others, guarded or open, optimistic or pessimistic, and many more. But regardless of the life choices we make, there are always times in our lives when we are presented with a decision about whether or not we need to reach outside of our comfort zone to do that living. These decisions are given to us at different points, and sometimes, can dictate the direction that our lives can go.
Not every romance can really end or be as predictable as cinema, books, or other such fictional media makes them out to be. There’s always a sense of predetermined circumstance or fate that allows the couple to get together in the end, even despite the roadblocks and inevitable misunderstandings that accompany that tentative sense of chemistry and spark that exists between them. While there are times when that selfsame couple maybe doesn’t end up together, for the most part, you can predict a couple on the silver screen from a mile away.
There’s been a few entries about new homes, moving into new homes, and journeying into a new place, but none until now that have addressed being in that home and spending your first night there with someone you’ve moved into. There’s a sense of beginning, a kind of simplicity to being in a place that is newly yours, and at the same time enjoying company with the person or persons that you’ll be living with that feels like a milestone, that feels significant.
To-do lists, especially long ones, are sometimes mountains to climb, long and arduous paths to travel, or in the case of this entry in the project, a long tunnel, with a constant obstacles needing to be hurdled in order to proceed along. These are appropriate comparisons, because sometimes, as it is with most busy people, the list can go onward and upward, down and away, out of sight ahead of you with seemingly no end in sight. At times it can seem downright intimidating.