jem on jém

[ENTRY-005]

terminal\user\jem\journal

For over a month now, I’ve spent moderately spaced-out slots of my free time engrossed in a post-apocalypse. For years now this world has become a second virtual home for me, providing many a warm memory and comforting respite to occasionally dwell on. I am, of course, prone to ignoring all the bad that comes with it, least of which being the hordes of infected horrors that’d give nothing more than to tear me limb from limb without a second’s hesitation.

I’ve seen ever-so-brief pauses and mild looks of confusion when I say what I’d give to occupy even a small pocket or corner of this universe for a while. The idea of living far away from civilization in general, holed up in a cabin and ideally out in some forest, is nothing but alluring to me. Perhaps it’s taking a reason to have a clear mind and workspace to the extreme, but being surrounded by nothing but stillness in the old world is something I often picture as the only way I could get any work done.

God knows why but man am I such a sucker for any dense foliage and vegetation as the backdrop for muh stories. Princess Mononoke, Alan Wake 2, and more recently Pacific Drive and Last of Us – I guess anything taking place in the Pacific Northwest with lots of rain (I’m sure one of the many reasons I’d love Twin Peaks). By no stretch of the imagination would I consider myself “outdoorsy,” yet I love walking under the shade of trees around the block or on the rare occasions I find myself on an impromptu trail with a friend I haven’t seen in six months. For all I know, I may be making up for an early upbringing where my mother didn’t like me playing in any environment that didn’t have an exact non-zero chance of being bitten by a snake.

In this dream scenario of self-induced isolation wrapped in a whimsy forest filter, I don’t think I’d survive on my own for long. Since a child I’ve had fun imagining myself a survivor of some lands (fuck I can probably add Minecraft to the list from earlier which felt like unlimited crack for a time), but now my lands feel less fantasy-coded and survival strictly out of necessity, not for fun. The experience is comparable but less fun to think about, much less to write.

Enter video games, where I can be anything I guess, and have fun doing it. Both Last of Us games have filled this specific yearning tenfold. I watch (and participate) as people have their lives irrevocably shaped by an unforgiving landscape, yet I find so much beauty in how the environment has persevered. Seeing a world people used to live and work in, now covered in dense overgrowth, moss and waterways, being built over and taken refuge by the ones that are left. Why the hell do I love this so much?

I am fascinated by the prospect of new stories and theories as to how we lived right now, passed onto generations later down the line that never experienced it. I’m not talking about no Bethesda-grade revisionist cheap shots, but the real conversations. Endless ruminations on how life probably used to be, something as simple as going to a movie theatre, riding a carousel or going to a museum, are the bread and butter of NaughtyDog’s game design. I’ve always admired their attention to detail when it comes to creating moments like these, and I’ll always hold them in such high regard for it. If I weren’t in the business of being a storyteller of the film variety, I would’ve been a game dev for sure.

terminal\user\jem\media\music

Recently Added to Boys in the Walls

Full Album Listens

Playlist Recommendation

terminal\user\jem\media\films-tv

Films

TV

terminal\user\jem\media\games

Currently Playing

terminal\user\jem\media\reading

Comics

terminal\user\jem\media\youtube