read notes and credits
Hello, I'm User353, and this bio is a public documentation of my failure to stick with anything creative for longer than 18 months. I started as a would-be indie game developer in the brightly colored, block-based world of Scratch. My dream was simple: to create a groundbreaking RPG using drag-and-drop logic. I was all ambition, zero execution. I spent weeks designing a perfect menu screen, only to have the actual gameplay—a simple platformer—crash every time the main sprite tried to jump. The truth quickly became apparent: I hated coding and debugging more than I loved the idea of making games, especially when my meticulously crafted projects only earned a handful of views.The solution? A dramatic, highly pretentious pivot away from code and into the "pure visual expression" of General Animation. I vowed to become a serious animator, capable of profound visual storytelling. This phase was perhaps the most humbling. I was using free software, fighting constant crashes, and wrestling with the sheer, agonizing tedium of keyframing. My walk cycles looked like the character was aggressively shivering, and I poured hundreds of hours into three-second clips that were rewarded with silence and minimal views. The gap between the beautiful idea in my head and the crude reality on the screen was too painful to bear, forcing me to search for a new, specific niche where low view counts felt less like failure.Salvation arrived in the form of pure, stylized, chaotic violence: Ultrakill animation. This was the era where being a small creator finally felt good. I channeled my skills into high-octane content that catered perfectly to a passionate, specific niche. For a time, I was the king of a very small, very loud hill, and the instant, enthusiastic feedback was addictively rewarding. However, this success came at a cost: hyper-specialization. I realized I was avoiding the hard work of creating original characters and stories because the fandom approval was easier. The niche became a comfortable cage, and I knew I had to risk the views and pivot again for the sake of genuine creative growth.And so, we arrive at the current, most ambitious phase: Cartoons. This is the ultimate goal—to use everything I've learned about visual storytelling to build my own world, with original characters and long-form narrative. This journey is the hardest yet; I'm constantly wrestling with plot structure and character design, and my output is painfully slow. The likelihood of this show succeeding is near zero, but the creative drive is genuine. I've realized that the entire chaotic trajectory—from Scratch coder to niche animator—was necessary R&D, showing me that the only way to find my true voice is to commit to the struggle of originality.The truth of the small creator is that the struggle is the content. My identity isn't fixed; it’s the chaotic, constant pursuit of the next best thing, and I am finally comfortable with that instability. I use my creative ability not for fame (I mean, look at my follower count), but to truly figure out what I love to make for my hobbies. This is a perpetual work-in-progress, an always-evolving feed. Right now, it's cartoons, and I'm pushing through the pain. But hey, if you suddenly see me launch a deeply niche podcast about obscure medieval pottery, please don't be surprised. Follow along, grab your favorite cheap snack, and witness the ongoing saga of a creator who just can’t sit still.
