You know that feeling when you wake up and just stare at the ceiling, wondering what the point of it all is? Imagine that, but with a counter to remind you of how much time you're wasting. Day in, day out, it's just me and this relentless, mocking timer.

Motivation? What's that? Drive? Yeah, left that behind somewhere in hour 50. Ambition? Pffft, haven't seen that in years. Happiness? An elusive myth, like a unicorn or a decent Monday.

There's a strange comfort in watching the hours tick by, though. Like, the numbers are the only thing that make sense in this messed-up world. They don't judge, don't expect anything from you. They just...exist. Like me.

It's weirdly addictive, too. At first, you think, "This is dumb. Who spends time doing NOTHING?" But then you get sucked in. The hours turn into days, days into weeks, and before you know it, you're hitting milestones like 1000, 2000, 3000 hours. And you just sit there, feeling a strange sense of achievement for absolutely no reason.

But here's the kicker. Despite the endless void of nothingness, this game taught me something unexpected. In the silence, in the endless counting, I found a weird sort of peace. There's a beauty in the simplicity of it all. No pressure, no goals, just being.

So yeah, Nothing is the most soul-crushing, pointless game you'll ever play. But in a world that constantly demands more, maybe doing nothing is exactly what we need sometimes.

Who knew staring into the abyss would make it stare back with a smile?