When you try your best...

I always liked to draw. When I was 15 and finished my art school I thought I like art as a hobby and dreamed about unnamed office work.😂

When I was 18 I've chosen to go to the University and pursue art career because 1. it was my silly childhood dream and 2. it was simply one thing what I was good at.

What I thought I was good at.

chilling foreshadowing

University was a harsh waking up call for me.

I was among talented students. Overwhelmingly talented.

I could create art. And they could do it better. Practically everyone was on another level and while it was great learning experience it was very hard to keep up. Fellow students were like a family, so they totally were not at fault. They were encouraging and dependable. But our teachers (sigh) were not.

They didn't want to teach us. It was literally what most of them were saying in our faces every day. We always fell short on their expectations. They could chat among themselves for hours, savoring each failure, not embarrassed by any presence. It was hell. So much people dropped out but administration ignored it and made excuses.

This pressure mixed with my moving to another city with no connections there sometimes were unbearable.

On the 3rd year of uni I realised that I hate drawing. It's not like I can't. I still do my assignments daily. It's just I don't have inspiration. It doesn't bring me joy to draw for myself anymore.

I was devastated. Because being artist was a dream. It was a hobby. It was a thing I was proud to be good at.

It was 2021 and this year was something else for all of us.

I was lost and miserably demotivated.

But I still liked to read.

Back in 2019 my friend roped me in playing the visual novel. Later, my tentatively new friend recommended me a gamebook she had fun with in schools years.

But there were few finished text based games in my native language and I tried my chances with choicescript games.

And here I want to talk about how much text based games were like a breath of fresh air.

I finally had the narrative that felt inclusive and right. I could choose what I like. My preferences and determination mattered.

The gaping hole where my love for drawing was supposed to reside became smaller. I finally found something I have equal passion about.

The second step in this journey was discovering that interactive fiction is not a creature frozen in time and space. My average reading experience usually felt like existing in a bubble, only the story and I. (Sometimes friends I try talk with about it.)

But IF is a beautiful living thing. It has a beating heart.

And here it is. The core of the matter.

The IF writers.

Brilliant, amazing creators, who are actively interacting with readers. I know it's partly a necessity. But it's a genuine willingness to.

For someone like me, who often felt helpless and isolated at the time, it was indescribable discovery.

It was not just me, my imagination and some far away talented writer. It was a community with real people sharing their emotions and their love for fictional worlds. Regularly.

It's not exclusevly IF community trait, but I've never experienced this myself at that age and on a world wide scale. I personally never expected to like something so strongly and have a power to participate. To ask questions, to help, to openly admire or disagree.

I learned a big deal about myself and my preferences. Interactive fiction broadened my horizones in a ways I couldn't even imagine. And because how welcomed I felt, I wanted to be an active part of this. I finally felt the need. I wanted to do something for people who give us so much of their time and passion.

I can give likes, reposts, use my words. But these are not my best tools. So, I pulled my stilus like a rusty weapon from its sheath and started to draw.

Thank you everyone, who lasted till the end. I hope my message can bring some joy to you.