At first, after playing this game, I thought to myself, “This game is unfinished”. But then, just before exiting out of the tab, I paused. That can’t be true, I must be missing something. I read the description section, and something caught my eye. “…you will not be able to to [sic] respawn (its [sic] a bubble)”. I instantly refreshed the page, now carrying a more sober mindset. Had I known my precious bubble would not respawn, I would have taken the game much more seriously the first time. Could this have been the point all along? Could this game be trying to teach me a lesson about the value of human life and the dangers of squandering it?
This time I carefully avoided obstacles for what seemed like an eternity. I bobbed. I weaved. I nearly popped but continued on with a bead of sweat forming on my forehead. As a boulder careened towards my beloved pocket of air, I dodged right and made a stunning discovery: I could pass beyond the edge of the screen. I peeked back into the play area to see if I was still alive. I was! This changed everything. I could now simply float myself into safety where there were no rocks to be seen. My bubble sat there, hiding in the darkness while I went to the bathroom. When I returned, I quickly checked to see if it had burst while out of view. A smile crossed my face when its shiny edge slid into view.
I had done it. I had achieved immortality. Time passed. I sat there and my joy turned to contentedness. My contentedness turned to boredom. My boredom turned to sadness. What kind of life was this? To hide where it’s safe, taking no risks? Gaining nothing except another moment to breathe? I knew it may mean my death, but I had to return. Although it may end me, a life of challenge and intrigue was more appealing than settling for mere existence.
I ventured into “the kill zone” and once more began to bob and weave like my life depended on it. I was so focused that the world outside the game began to fade into nothingness. I got better. I got good. I felt unpoppable. I even began to take greater risks. I would see how close I could get to a falling rock. I tried to dodge under a rock at the last second. I was having the time of my life. Then, “it” happened. I burst.
I didn’t feel frustrated. I didn’t feel disappointed. I didn’t even feel sad. The only thing I felt was a deep appreciation for that shiny bubble and the many lessons it taught me. Life is precious. Time is fleeting. It's better to take risks and challenge oneself rather than sit in stagnation. I made a silent prayer to my lost friend. May he float straight to heaven.
10/10
