God's game.
I once loved games—small, simple things, where rules were clear and victories sweet. But the day I realized I was inside God’s Game, every other game lost its meaning.
No one asks to join this game. No one signs up or agrees to play. From the moment ya take your first breath, ya are already a participant. There is no tutorial, no briefing—only a thrust into motion, into a life that was chosen for ya long before ya could understand choice itself.
At the start, each player is assigned a path. Not by themselves, but by those who came before—parents, who were placed on their own paths by their parents, who followed the choices of theirs. It is a cycle, an inheritance of direction.
But as time passes, players begin to realize something: paths are not fixed. Some struggle to carve a new way for themselves. Others abandon all direction, choosing instead to drift, to move wherever the wind of the moment takes them. These drifters care little for the rules of others. They live not for tomorrow, nor for meaning—only for the sensation of existing in the now.
Yet, strange things happen in God’s Game. Some paths seem greater than others, elevated, noble. But how can one road be superior when all roads were created by the same unseen hand? Logic falters here, crumbles in the face of something deeper, something inexplicable.
Following a path is not easy. The further one walks, the heavier it becomes. The weight of choice, of consequence, of doubt—it lingers, suffocates, and sometimes, it breaks those who carry it.
But there is no reward for enduring. No mercy, no relief. Every player suffers, whether they follow a path or not. There are no shortcuts, no safe zones, no moments where the weight is lifted. The game does not favor, does not grant ease. It simply is.
And there is no exit. No way to leave, no pause button, no second chances. Once inside, a player remains—moving in circles, repeating struggles, until the game itself decides their turn is over. Some endure longer than others, their strength stretched beyond reason, their will tested against the abyss of exhaustion.
But what lies beyond? No one knows. Some whisper of a reward, a promised paradise awaiting those who play well. Yet, no proof exists—only tales, spoken by those still trapped in the cycle. Those who finish the game never return to tell their story. Some say they vanish into nothingness, that the moment the game ends, all turns dark.
So here we are—all of us—playing God’s Game. Each moving in our own way, by choice or by fate. And though we may cross paths, though we may witness the struggle of others, in the end, every player must walk their journey alone.@gulfarezz