It's A Harsh Life Being A Gamer

The indie game dev lifecycle in a nutshell: Five glorious years of success followed by eternal obscurity. Just like Herman Melville who went from celebrated author to "who?" faster than you can say "white whale." Your first game is Flappy Bird , your second is Flappy Bird: The Sequel Nobody Asked For . The Wikipedia timeline of your career will be equally savage—a brief moment of glory followed by the crushing section heading: "2023-2028: Unsuccessful developer who now works at Starbucks."

Left side: "My code is self-documenting!!" with a sketch of someone looking distressed at the lowest end of the IQ bell curve. Middle: Actual documentation with detailed comments about monster attack algorithms in a game. Right side: Someone who just writes "// this is bridge" next to a drawing of a bridge, sitting at the other low end of the IQ curve. The perfect balance? The 130+ IQ person with comprehensive, helpful comments that actually explain the why behind complex game logic. The eternal developer struggle: write no comments and claim "self-documenting code," write useless comments stating the obvious, or be the rare specimen who documents the intent and reasoning. Most of us oscillate between all three depending on how much coffee we've had.

The eternal RGB hardware divide: hardcore gamers who've spent hours troubleshooting driver conflicts and BIOS issues just to make their fancy lights work properly, versus the sweet summer children who just think "ooh, rainbow computer." Every time I see a new RGB component hit the market, I can feel my blood pressure rising. Sure, they look nice in product photos, but nobody mentions the proprietary software that'll crash your system, the incompatibilities between brands, or how they'll randomly reset to default rainbow puke during important presentations. Yet here I am, still buying them. Maybe I'm the real clown.

The great FPS divide - where one group has a complete meltdown if their game drops below 100 frames per second, while the other group just silently endures slideshow-level performance like battle-hardened veterans. Remember coding on those ancient machines where compiling took so long you could brew coffee, drink it, and still have time for existential dread? That's the 30 FPS crowd - they've seen things, man. Meanwhile, the 100+ FPS folks are like those junior devs who complain when npm install takes more than 10 seconds.

The duality of developer ethics! While parents and schools drill "plagiarism bad" into our brains, the reality of coding is... slightly different . That NES DPCM bugfix from Super Mario Bros? Just "inspiration" for your game! The stick figure duality is perfect - honest thief vs. defensive "borrower." Nintendo's legal team is typing furiously somewhere while retro game devs nod knowingly. It's not stealing if you call it "referencing legacy implementation patterns." 😏

Ah, the classic game dev descent into madness. Starting with bright-eyed optimism about using Godot's C# API, then slowly spiraling into technical debt hell. First, you're excited about making a game. Then you're hunting for that perfect 3D model that's probably held together with duct tape and prayers. By the third stage, you're realizing your codebase is built on an outdated engine version and needs complete refactoring. And finally... the thousand-yard stare when you hit 3000+ errors. That's not a compiler error count—that's a cry for help. The best part? We all know you'll do it again on your next project. Because we're game devs, and apparently we enjoy suffering.