I’m poor and I want to write about games. Obviously, what I should do next is get a job and make some money, so I can get more games, right? Wrong. ‘Cuz unfortunately, entry-level jobs bother me deeply; I am philosophically opposed to defrosting frozen donuts as a career. “No one expects you to stay at that kind of job forever,” people say, “8ut you are expected to endure it. At least until you have better options.” And really, it’s to my benefit to have a job. If I had a job, I’d have more games to write about. I don’t see getting a job as the problem, though. The problem is that I don’t want a job, and what jobs I’ve had, I’ve disliked to the point of quitting. (I’ve really only had one job like this, though. The other jobs I quit, I quit for better reasons.)
I initially made this project up to address that first problem: that I’m poor and I want to write about games. 8ut now I more clearly see that this could help me with the second problem as well: to put it in broader terms, my fear of doing things I don’t feel motivated to do.
The project? To play video games that I don’t want to play.
Now, why play games instead of doing anything else I don’t want to do, like, say, getting and keeping a job? It’s because games are low-risk, less time-consuming, and most importantly, designed to be enjoyable. In the context of learning to enjoy any job I do, video games are easy mode. They’re safe little sandboxes I can play in to learn more about what I enjoy and enjoyment itself, without risk of humiliation, physical and mental fatigue, or a bad reputation to carry to my next job interview.
These are games that I’ve tried to play but failed to enjoy. I won’t stop playing them until I enjoy them (and if I do, I probably won’t stop) or until I understand well enough why other people do.
First game on the list? I’ll start with something easy, something that appeals to me but never manages to hold my attention: The Legend of Zelda