#minecraftmemories

Gaming used to be you, a console, and maybe some cold pizza. Now? It’s Twitch raids, Discord drama, Minecraft meetups, and indie devs turning local scenes into global movements. Gaming’s glow-up into a full-blown social universe is wild, and lowkey, Gen Z is thriving in it.

Platforms like Twitch have turned play into performance. As Taylor (2018) puts it, live streaming is more than just gameplay: it’s broadcasting ourselves. Watching someone game feels like chilling with a friend, not just consuming content. And for creators, it’s not just about being good at the game, it’s about building a vibe, a fandom, a community. You’re not just playing Elden Ring, you’re co-creating a weird little corner of the internet where inside jokes and emotes rule. 🧠👾💜

Meanwhile, indie scenes, like the one in Melbourne that Keogh (2021) explores, show how small devs are creating hyper-local, emotionally rich games that resonate globally. These devs aren’t chasing AAA clout, they’re building games that reflect real lives, queer joy, anxiety, awkwardness, feels. Community isn’t just who plays the game, it’s who makes it.

And Minecraft? Don't even get us started. Hjorth et al. (2021) show how it’s not just a sandbox game; it’s a whole ecosystem of creativity, collaboration, and chaotic fun. Whether it’s building fantasy worlds or making cursed minigames, the play is collective. We’re not just gaming anymore, we’re world-building with friends.

Gaming today isn’t escape: it’s connection. It’s identity. It’s social currency. The grind is still real, but now we’ve got an audience, a squad, and maybe a few subs to go with it.

References:

Keogh, B 2021, 'The Melbourne indie game scenes: value regimes in localized game development' (Chapter 13), P Ruffino (ed), Independent Videogames: Cultures, Networks, Techniques and Politics, Routledge, pp.209-222. Taylor, TL 2018, ‘Broadcasting ourselves’ (chapter 1), in Watch Me Play: Twitch and the Rise of Game Live Streaming, Princeton University Press, pp.1-23.