Ho ho, where do I even start? It’s 6 AM where I am and I haven’t slept, so excuse the rantiness. I’m bored as hell.
I’m thankful for the wonderful community of like-minded people who are a big part of the reason I’m in the position I am now. BotB, YouTube, Discord, the demoscene, the many IRL friends I’ve shown my works - all have been appreciative. Except for that one time I accidentally included the driver author’s cause of death in a title… that one nearly got me blacklisted from the demoscene. But it’s water under the bridge now.
I’m thankful for my autism. It sounds silly, but it’s been the biggest driving force behind my whole chiptune career. I started chiptune when I was around eight or nine years old. I got hooked on retro gaming when about 1/3 of retro gaming was just considered… gaming. I’m 23 now, in my sophomore year of college, and at every step of the way from rock bottom to the very climax, I’ve had chiptune by my side as a way to channel my intense curiosity, my emotions, and my views.
I’m thankful for the dedication - and the sheer balls of steel - of the retro community. Through thick and thin, wading through a quagmire of sadistic copyright laws, media archiving blunders, websites coming and going, the march of technology going faster and faster, we’re still here. Just about anything you can think of has an emulator or simulator of some sort, and you can write music on about half of them. We do things the people who created the very things we love would assassinate us over! I can play Switch games on my dinosaur gaming laptop and use cracked Roland Cloud VSTs to render MIDI tunes from the comfort of my own dorm room, without anyone giving me the Litvinenko treatment… if you stop hearing from me or see my name in the news, Nintendo did it.
I’m thankful for my job. I currently work the front desk my college’s information technology. I’m not paying rent or bills, so I have all the money to myself. I’ve bought a few little tchotchkes with my earnings as what many would call a grunt - a metric assload of VSTs, a sample pack optimized for my Casio SK-1, three musical toys, some headphone adapters, subscriptions to a couple mobile apps, and a Pocket Operator that’s yet to come in the mail. If I got fleeced out of $60, there will be HELL to pay.
I’m thankful for food. I consider myself a foodie - no wonder I’m so fat - and whatever money I’m not spending on musical nuggets, I’m probably spending on meals and snacks. There are hundreds of restaurants in my area, and I’ve been to a good chunk of them. My favorite has to be this Vietnamese restaurant tucked away in a strip mall. You’d barely notice it, but it has some of the best pho, summer rolls, and wonton egg noodle soup I’ve had in my life. I was once an impossibly picky eater. I’m talking buttered pasta 24/7. Now I’ll eat just about anything you put in front of me… as long as you SEASON IT! My two cents for people who are perfectly healthy but don’t salt anything: “You’re not dying, eat like you’re alive.”
I’m thankful for this one guy with a dream. He was a shut-in who spent most of his free time catching bugs in the wilds around his house and school. Eventually, he would discover video gaming, write a gaming magazine with his friends, and later move onto developing games of his own. His name was Satoshi Tajiri. Boom. Pokémon. I have a huge worldbuilding project that I’ve been working on for the past couple years, called the Fourth World Project. It’s an exceptionally contrived AU that seeks to fill in what the games didn’t, and correct some of what they did. If you see any titles from me that look like gibberish - Kaskkaay Kürümakkü, Kymoon, Ayakori, Fúeh - those aren’t gibberish, those are Fourth World conlangs!
I’m thankful for my resilience. Starting in 2020, I struggled with what I later found out to be crippling OCD. At the time, I hadn’t the slightest idea what it could be. It felt like my mind was being whipped like cream. I would spend entire days crying in quarantine, afraid of my own shadow, browsing shady forums in hopes someone would read my obsessive-compulsive, self-destructive messages. Trolls did. Eventually I did manage to get past it, but in 2022 it happened again. I would obsess over my gender, sexuality, and the rest of my identity, to the point I could barely function. A friend, who would later become my boyfriend, helped me out along the way. I stressed myself out so much, I gave myself full-on migraines simply from overthinking. I don’t remember much from this period of my life as far as milestones go, but it took me until very recently to finally compose myself in a state I can call stable.
I was gonna write 2,500 words about this topic, then 1,800, but I don’t wanna bore you. I’ll ixnay it here.