my game of the year is

This is a list of games I found personally meaningful or interesting over the past year. It’s not a complete list of all the great games out there. I know I missed a few. 

This list also doesn’t rank the games in any particular way. They’re ordered the way they are to help me illustrate some ideas, that is all.

my game of the year is the growth of a tree, the birth of an ecosystem, stable but fragile, beautiful but powerful, the precarity of nature and the acceptance of the risk of being alive rising above roots stuck in earth and into the unknowable and impossible universe

my game of the year is the enchantment of a power fantasy clashing against reality, a memory that can’t be fought against, a childhood wishing to be escaped, and the uneasy truth that resignation is vital to recovery

my game of the year is a deteriorated tape played on an old VCR, data loss perverting colour and distorting sound, streaks of static cascading over a wasted and aimless adolescence

my game of the year is the awkward hesitation and slippery jittery clumsiness of a first kiss, of getting to know someone’s body, of coming to understand my own, like sudden estrangement from a machinery i thought i was master to

my game of the year is an enthusiastic and excited demand for pain, an exhortation for physical extremis pure in the moment, glee-tinged cries signaling the resistance of his body tightening the muscles and bracing for the reverberating sting from the special magic of my gesturing hand

my game of the year is a red, raw, rash rage that only spreads when scratched, overwhelming everything, putting all other details out of focus, soothed only by crawling through the cavernoussolace of solitude in the shower

my game of the year is a monolith and a gray haze weighing me down in oppressive silence, isolated, alienated, an aberration walking past rows of identical homes, obedient workers, and the imperfections called garbage, i lucid dream and pray for the final consequence of having raised my voice

my game of the year is a statue wasting away in the wind of an arid auburn no-man’s-land, a living monument that cried out once for its mother when the red eye, the evil beacon in the dark desert night, beckoned it forward, it remains majestic and clean and silent and static

my game of the year is a messy watercolour landscape of problems without solutions, formative like pigment and perspective framed inside paper-thin memories that only want someone to talk to, confessing to a priest who can only offer that loss is the bell that chimes for change

my game of the year is hooded pilgrims walking through an enchanted forest, and they don’t know when they’ll stop, or what they’re looking for, but they walk through rain, they walk through hunger, because they have faith, because their god gives them nothing else, and i follow, if out of nothing else, out of faith

my game of the year is a stained glass cathedral dome where at the center there’s a eucharist sanctifying the fractal and the bent and the broken

my game of the year is a crystal palace rebirth and the airy floating forward motion though colours enveloping me, the proximity and movement of reds, greens, yellows bordered and boldened by sharp black lines living giving my ambiguous shadowed body definition and meaning

my game of the year is a curio cabinet hanging out in space, angular cut glass on the precipice of a new world, every corner filled with music and op art and the clap of gravity, invisible footfall on hardwood

my game of the year is little bits and pieces of the artist’s heart scattered, an adventure a convenient excuse to know them, to pick up those pieces performing a need to be heard, but more than heard, understood, as a partner in crime, as a friend, poured out for me, the invisible interlocutor, a stranger bound in intimacy

my game of the year is a secret world of old video rental stores and B horror films, abandoned islands of brutalist corporate structures, overtaken by nature, submerged in water, eroded by vapour, and textured like sand

my game of the year is an impressionist landscape of the passage of time, the turning of leaves like the turning of pages in a picturebook, perspective flitting through the illusion of space, flatness that moves in just such a way as to feel like depth

my game of the year is the journey, the road, the warm dark sky and the question with no single answer, the problem with no single solution, and the endless stretch of unexamined consciousness punctuated by dreams of cosmic passengers and a voice on the radio that refuses to comfort me

my game of the year is a particle and a wave, a channel of light bending into void, a collection of matter and meaning so intense it implodes into a nothingness that flashes before my eyes

my game of the year is a funeral held in a television set where i channel surf the hot blue electric tide of a shorting cathode ray and finally rise like steam into a feeling of closure.