games

Leave hope…

Fallout 2. No, not the second season of the series. It’s Fallout 2. There’s so much in this title for me. Today I caught myself thinking that the weather outside the window and the mood are such that they say “load…run…disappear from this gloomy universe into an even bleaker one. But so familiar…” – the taste of childhood is not “ice cream for 50 kopecks”. It’s when you went to the store with a sore throat to change discs, and one of the two turned out to be Fallout 2. You liked the “dude on the cover”. And you realized that this is exactly what…

I remember the snowy weather, and the fact that my sore throat didn’t get any better after the hike. But then I discovered a whole universe for myself. I spent half a day working on a quest to “open” doors, because I couldn’t even imagine that in a game you could not just “click” but set off a timer-activated explosive, throw it out of your backpack and… blow up that damn door. That was something incredible. This universe was incredible. Because games back then were about possibilities. About tones of text. About stories you lived with and with which you fell asleep and woke up.

Fallout 2 was the revelation for me about how games could be made and how limitless they could be in terms of possibilities. It wasn’t a game, it was a cinematic adventure. I can name a bunch of games from that time, like Phantasmagoria, that stood out from the AAA knockoffs like Assassins Creed that are coming out now. Because back then, games were about the idea, not the cover (pun intended, I know).

Retro (Contra)

I would like to write briefly “who knows, that knows”, but maybe I’ll explain.

In my childhood there was a console, mostly known as Nes. It has game “Contra”. If you enter “up up, down down, back forward, back forward, B A, Start” on the title screen, you will get thirty lives in the game. This is also known as the “Konami code”.

I’ve been carrying this project in my head for several days, but I still haven’t found the time (or the opportunity, because of the shelling) to paint my nails. What’s more interesting – yesterday there was a heavy shelling that destroyed the local police station. So… apparently this work has found another, deeper meaning – right now, we all need those same “extra thirty lives”. It doesn’t matter, saved or not lost.

Recently, a person told me that he wants to think less about the war. To have less “war” in his life. In fact, that’s where our paths diverged. Because I don’t want to be silent about what surrounds me. I want to bring my own meanings to it, but if there is no war for her – ok. Because I live in it. So, in fact, there is no me for her.