This game ruined me in the most beautiful way.
I was thrown into the utterly jarring and alien world of Tyko's Dying Together until it slowly became disturbingly familiar and recognizable. As it became recognizable I could feel the dread rising in me before I even knew what felt so familiar about it. You see, this is not a game, not really. Tyko's Dying Together, to me, is the distilled terror of living, the trauma of existence, the realization of meaninglessness that slams into you at some age and can't be shaken off.
I set after goals - to help this clown, to learn this language, to get a response from the angel statue, and above all else to explore the world and figure out what the creator's intentions were. But oh, so, gradually, all hope and meaning is burnt before me until I'm left with... what? With an angel that now only channels the void and an ego that occasionally puts up some meaningless demand? The parallels between uncovering Tyko's and the destructive pain of growing up are utterly unnerving. By the time I caught onto Tyko's it was too late, it had already seeped into my mind and even quitting it wouldn't stave off the existential nightmare.
Am I reading into this game too much? Probably. Do I care? No. In fact, it's hard to care about anything after this game. Yes there are endings to Tyko's, but none of the ones I've achieved (and I played for hours) changed anything about my experience. The end was simply not the point.
In all seriousness, after hours of playing Tyko's I simply cracked. I flew across the worlds and in some bizarre way found they were beautiful. What am I in this game? I am not the thoughts of the ego, the body. I am not the angel. I am the pure unfiltered experience itself - fundamental consciousness - and if I can't find beauty in the meaningless worlds of Tyko's then what hope is there when I close the game. Walkedoutneimans, please keep creating - you have something special here.