When Pipe Dreams Preserve Real Ambitions
Some things are better left separated from reality.
Joy In Naiveté
I haven’t dreamed of something for a long time. That’s not to say that I don’t have goals or anything. But those endeavors have been way too real to enjoy them.
Writing a story and making a video game was whimsical to me. The idea of making a living off of this creative work and making the next big hit evoked visions of glamor.
However, my rose-tinted glasses start to come off when reality sets in. It’s been a year and three months since I started my second project. I’m struggling to find the will to do anything.
Weeks can go by without any progress.
Doubts continue to swirl around in my mind. While I’ve improved since my beginnings, it feels like I’m still far off from my best work. Perhaps it’s all a process of learning, but it takes so long.
My first-ever project spanned 4 years, only for me to feel I didn’t do well with it. I know there’s a first time for everything, and the first work is rarely going to be anywhere close to a masterpiece. But that still doesn’t feel good.
I aim to finish the current project in February 2024. But again, I question whether the premise is good enough. I’m afraid of having to feel that disappointment again. I sometimes wonder if I’m going to finish at all.
That would make two games in 6 years. If I even meet that deadline.
I’m not expecting this game to be my “hit” either. That’s not to say I think it’ll be terrible, but the complexity and depth pale in comparison to what I’m thinking about for the next work.
I need to finish this first though. Then I can start something new. That one will likely take another 4 years. And progress will inevitably slow as it has now. I’ll relive all these doubts again.
Then there’s the tough choice of availability versus monetization. When I started, I thought I could just release everything for free. But now I’m doubtful I should (or even can) spend a decade for nothing in return.
Especially considering unemployment and the state of the economy.
Though I’m not sure I’d make anything worthwhile with double-digit sales and a 40% profit cut anyway.
This is a dream that I’m working on making reality.
But the reality is lackluster at best.
Strangely, video game development is something that is entirely possible for me to achieve. Yet the effect of doing so is demotivation. On the flip side, there are desires I have that I’ll likely never fulfill.
Yet they can still invigorate my spirit.
Childhood Dreams
One of my childhood dreams was to own a company. As for what the company would do, I never really thought about it. Probably work. That’s what the adults did. They worked.
The main reason I wanted to do so was to create a cool environment for all my hypothetical workers. Well, at least what I thought would be cool to have at that age.
I’m talking about air hockey tables and arcade games for leisure. Eateries for delicious food and drink. I went out of my way to research the prices of these machines. And boy, they seemed pretty expensive to me.
A good air hockey table is about $2,000.
Arcade games cost anywhere from $500 to $5,000.
And a drinking fountain — $1,500.
(My net worth at 10 years old was probably like $200.)
My perspective has changed now that I’m a bit older. People would probably revolt if I bought a Pacman machine for the lobby instead of raising salaries. But at the time, it was an innocent enough thought.
I just wanted to create a happy workplace.
There were more lavish ideas too. If the company was doing well enough, I thought I could install one of those ball fountains in front of the office building.
You know, those ones where there’s a giant marble sphere spinning on a stream of water.
A 4-foot diameter sphere fountain would cost about $50,000. It might’ve been a little harder to justify this expenditure. I don’t think you can write that off as a business expense.
But on the other hand, imagine running your hand on that smooth ball as it rotates around and around. Feel the cool, wet surface as it glides in different directions…
I’m convinced. I’m buying it.
There is also joy in envisioning achieving smaller desires. I used to go trick-or-treating in a rather wealthy area. I’m talking about mansions and seaside views. A couple of celebrities lived in the area.
One house, in particular, gave out giant Hershey’s bars each year. You had to go through their haunted house, and at the end, you’d get the jumbo-sized chocolate.
I could see that they had dozens of tubs filled with the treats. There had to be thousands crammed in there. And I thought about how cool it would be to do the same one day.
$40 for a dozen. So that’s $4,000 per 1200.
There were also some YouTube videos I used to watch, showcasing these insane Halloween and Christmas decorations. I wanted to be able to put on shows for the neighborhood.
Imagine a large plot of land where fireworks and decorations lit up the surrounding area. Music blasting through the speakers to sync to the show. People from all around would meet to see the spectacle.
Just thinking about the joy these things could bring is exciting.
I could go on and on about things I wanted to do. They range from significant to minuscule. Getting a Guinness World Record. Making a giant paper airplane. Donating a huge sum to charity.
At some point, I lost these ambitions. The harsh reality had taken up all my focus. I couldn’t dream anymore.
Unfortunately, a lot of what I’ve mentioned isn’t so glamorous in practice. There’s some infamy in world records, as some are achieved by just paying for them to appear in a book.
Additionally, I’m sure there are zoning laws and HOA rules that would prohibit any large decorations and shows at a residential home. Much of that probably wouldn’t fly. Though I’m sure it would still be possible.
I’ve often found that achievement doesn’t garner much joy for long. For example, college graduation is supposedly one of the great accomplishments one can have in life.
But it’s hard to feel proud,
when I’m only days from the 1-year mark of unemployment.
Perhaps it's the pursuit of said goals that truly motivates me. There’s maybe some over-optimism about the ramifications that will arise from achievement.
Once that threshold has been passed, the high hopes fade off. It often feels like I’m left with a sense of emptiness with reality. I question whether it was worth it, and wonder what’s left for me to hope for now.
Maybe that’s just my fault for not curbing my expectations.
While this paints a dreary outlook, nothing is for certain. I still want to try. The effects might only be temporary. They may not live up to expectations. But I’ll have something to strive toward.
Solace From Afar
A couple of months ago, I had a new pipe dream. It was the first one I’ve had in years. And it’s probably the most impossible one I’ve ever come up with yet.
There are these companies that take you on a trip to the edge of space in a balloon. Technically, you don’t become an astronaut, as it isn’t really outer space. But you can see the curvature of the Earth and everything.
I thought it would be cool to take my entire family on one of these trips. Assuming they aren’t terrified of the balloon exploding and plummeting to the ground from the stratosphere.
Again though, reality makes it hard to achieve.
Each seat on the ride costs anywhere from $50,000 to $100,000. All eight seats in the cabin would then cost up to $800,000. It’s not exactly chump change.
I’m not sure I’d be able to enjoy the ride even if I could afford it. Knowing how much money was blown instead of going into investments. And if the experience turns out to be mediocre, that would make it even more wasteful.
It’s probably safe to say it won’t be happening. But maybe space tourism will get cheaper in the coming years. I have no idea what will be possible in the future. More opportunities could definitely arise.
So I hope I can hand out giant chocolate bars or put on fireworks shows one day. I hope I can travel to the Olympics and the edge of space. I’ll keep hoping I can make something that’s a hit.
Because after all, one can dream.