I'm Yang Zeyu, a 36-year-old indie dev who's finally ready to show you my heart.
　　My body-horror game Out of Hands launches today.
　　To those who've supported this strange journey—thank you.
　　14 years in game development. 14 years to make something I can proudly call "my vision."
　　Some might call that stubbornness.
　　The path was littered with dead ends, yet here we are.
　　There's pride, yes—but mostly just quiet awe at how cruel and kind this craft can be.
　　Making games is hard. Indie games? That's masochism.
　　The crunch, the doubt, the financial panic—you know the drill.
　　So why choose this path?
　　Because when your hands shape nightmares for a living, corporate gigs start feeling like coffins.
　　For years they warned me: "The indie bubble will burst."
　　An anxious people-pleaser, I wasted a decade making safe sequels for studios.
　　But Out of Hands proves some hungers can't be outsourced.
　　Do we abandon vineyards because the first grapes are sour?
　　No. The obsessed will ferment vinegar into wine.
　　Yet love alone couldn't stop the shame.
　　14 years‘ work. 36 years old. No hits. Just a head full of monsters and empty wallets.
　　Every day brought the same crossroad: "Keep chasing madness, or grow up?"
　　I baked that torment into Out of Hands' DNA.
　　Play it, and you'll taste my tears in every glitch.
　　What now? I'll keep making weird art. Stone by stone, the mountain moves.
　　Midlife crisis? Maybe. But the view from this cliff? Divine.
　　I owe it to my younger self to see how high we can climb.
　　And when the next storm hits?
　　Let it break me.