The Ventureweaver

With my surgery date approaching and Canada Day on the horizon, there will be a short pause between this post and the next-just a few days, I hope. With six weeks off work and some time to myself, I thought I’d share a few thoughts with you all. Despite everything happening in the world, I want you to know: I’m not going anywhere. I’ll remain here, within the realm I’ve created, until the end of time. There are moments when I’m working on my game, expanding its universe, weaving new threads of adventure, and I feel an irresistible urge to share these tales with you. But there are also times when one must pause, gather their thoughts, and embrace the opportunity to try something new. As I sit down to write scripts for upcoming videos, I often wonder what destiny holds for each of us. Lately, my mind has been consumed with the next area of the game’s world: an old schoolhouse. There’s something deeply unsettling about it. Imagine, if you will, a forgotten schoolhouse, left to crumble back into the earth on the edge of a small, nearly abandoned village. What spirits might linger within its rotting walls? Are they peaceful…or vengeful?

I make sure to spend at least a few hours each day within the game. Honestly, it’s all I do, and don’t get me wrong, I love it. But I wish I could show others that they, too, can explore this world I’ve built. They can experience the magic of crafting a universe from scratch, of telling a story without needing to break the bank. To me, that’s what gaming is all about. Sometimes I find myself reflecting on all the games I’ve played over the years, the ones that truly inspired me on this mission I’ve taken upon myself. I can’t help but wonder what it must have been like to create a text adventure back in the day, like those from Infocom or Level 9 games that existed solely to tell a great story and transport players to another world. I know deep down that no one will ever truly play my game, or even talk about it. It’s just one man’s dream, destined to fade away into the realm of the forgotten, buried beneath countless others like mine. Who will remember me when I’m gone? Will someone stumble upon my game years from now, sharing it with their friends or family? Or will the last remnants of my existence waste away on some old server, tucked away in a forgotten closet or dusty laundry room? It reminds me of those old BBS systems that still exist even today, tiny, private worlds carved into the digital frontier. Once they flicker out, what’s left behind but silence?

One can often feel like they’re wasting their life trying to tell a story, as though we’re nothing more than brief moments in time, destined to return to where we came from. Lately, these thoughts weigh on me more with each passing day. Perhaps I’m standing on the brink of a mid-life crisis, stirred by the approach of my surgery date. Yet all I truly wish is to share the world I’m creating with you. If you’re celebrating Canada Day, I hope you have a fun, safe, and memorable time. And to my American friends, I wish you the same on the Fourth of July. Take care, and until next time, let your lantern guide your way.