Immortality (2022)

I unquit

Immortality
by Half Mermaid
Released on Steam in August 2022

Discovery is as much serendipity as it is algorithmically generated. Look at what’s in front of you; now look again. But spamming the same shit over and over will eventually lead you nowhere. Is that better or worse than inaction, than not looking at all? 

But there’s a difference between inaction and rest, and oh did I ever need a break from music this year. I lost my confidence, hands trembling at the gig last January, opening the show with a song about as difficult as fucking “Wonderwall.” At home, working on my own projects, I lost my ability to sing. I mean that literally. My body rebelled: my diaphragm seized up and throat constricted every time I tried to choke out a note. As I practiced, I convinced myself I needed a powerful, stage-ready voice. I forgot that it’s okay to sing quietly. What I needed to learn was control. 

So I put down my guitar. I kept my mouth shut.

It’s strange to abdicate a passion and reduce a crucial part of yourself to a hobby. I chose a few projects and pursued them intermittently, with little pressure or real discipline. My goth band, where I play bass, finally gained momentum. I wrote a bunch of songs on ukulele, which, let me tell you, is a wild and complex and fascinating instrument. I guess I probably recorded a few things for my friend George? But that’s been a given since I moved back to Philly in 2015.

Darlings: I played so many video games in 2023, sometimes with joy, often to drown out the world. I didn’t log as much time as I did during the pre-vax, stay-at-home days, when I dedicated 150+ hours each to Breath of the Wild and Fire Emblem: Three Houses (incidentally, this was also my most creatively fruitful time). But still. According to Steam, Immortality took me 13.5 hours to complete–or complete as much as I cared to.

It’s a hard game to write about, as all the reviews say, as the pleasure of Immortality lies in how it gradually feeds you pieces of the story in a largely arbitrary order, allowing for both slow meditation and sudden revelations. The player watches dozens of brief clips from three never-released films, as well as accompanying behind-the-scenes footage, in order to find out what happened to the starring actress.

Credits roll, but there’s no real ending, no resolution, no firm answers. The game ends when the player is satisfied and decides to step away. It’s a generous measure of agency in a game with limited interactivity.

Maybe the foundation of all agency, however much we may actually have, is the ability to opt in or drop out. This was the year I quit musical theater. I graciously declined every gig. I announced to friends and family that I was through. Then I got an offer that had everything: a venue I never dreamed I’d play; a show centering people of color; a music director I loved working with; pay rivaling my day job. 

So I’ve unquit. I’ve unquit music. I’ve unquit my ambition. I’m making plans to blow up my life and pursue self-employment sometime in 2024. And that includes writing as well as music.

I’ll be back to biweekly posts starting next month. If you enjoy reading, please do share. And I’ll happily take game recommendations, too! I’ve got a Switch and Steam Deck. Tell me what to play.