What occupied my time? Terraria version 1.1, mostly: it was a massive update, and the list of improvements were impressive enough to interest an old High School friend to have me give the game another spin with him.
So we did, starting pretty much from anew (albeit importing some old gear from our old world). However, now that I've more or less caught up to where I was from starting anew, played with the new mechanics system, killed the Wall Of Flesh and mined a few of the new ores, I find myself largely dispossessed once again. We'll get our Hamdrax and Hallowed Armor and such, and then what? Wait until the next patch? Yeah, I think we're playing Terraria for the wrong reasons.
No game interests me in playing at the moment. Skyrim is still broken, enough so that Rock Paper Shotgun put out a public appeal. (As my qualms are with the balance, I'll have to wait until next month when the construction set releases.) I may have burned all my enthusiasm for Sword of the Stars 2 playing the broken versions before the much-improved-but-hardly-perfect version available today. You know, there's always Batman: Arkham City, and even Bastion was picked up for $5 a few days ago, so perhaps it's the lack of Zoloft speaking, and this is why I'm bored with gaming.
Whenever I'm in this mood, I can't help but wonder if I aught to try my hand at creating a game again. The time I spent away from developing is, in a way, a boon: it grants me a fresh outlook on what I was working on. When you're deep in the trenches of development, it's ludicrously easy to fail to see you're trudging in circles.
If I could make any game in the world in BYOND, what game shall it be?
This is a tough question, really. I had been messing around with an old idea I had about an open-ended space RPG, and I threw in a bunch of ideas about virtual worlds with consequences, and such. However, am I really so married to the idea of a space RPG? Because space is mostly empty. It's so much easier to make an RPG where your feet are on the ground because we've a lifetime of experience living that way. Space is a relative sensory deprivation experience.
The burden of knowledge is that, the more you know about something, the more you realize you know so little about it. It's really no wonder I've never finished a game: the goal was to create My Own Net Dream, but how can one truly recognize something as vague as a dream? One really needs to set the bar at something real for real results to be found.
Perhaps I'll answer my question, coming up with something real to create. Or perhaps I'll take half a Zoloft tomorrow and be forget my troubles, planting the seeds of procrastination anew.