Why I am building a video game to keep from screaming

If you met me at a conference, you’d probably hate me.

You’d see the "Founder & CEO" title. You’d see the polished suit and the "visionary" headshot. You’d see the press releases about "synergy" and "optimizing healthcare outcomes" that my marketing team writes for me.

It looks perfect. It looks like I won.

Here is the truth: I am bored out of my mind.

I am 51 years old. I run a multinational healthtech company that is essentially a very expensive plumber for the medical industry. We fix pipes. We move data for millions of patients. It is profitable, it is stable, and it is slowly suffocating me.

I spend my days in boardrooms listening to people use words like "vertical integration" and "deliverables" until the words lose all meaning. I have clients who schedule meetings to plan future meetings. I have a calendar that looks like a game of Tetris played by a sadist.

I should be happy. I’m an immigrant. I came to this country with a wife, two kids, four suitcases, and a panic disorder. I worked eighteen-hour days to build this life. I bought the safety. I bought the house.

But nobody tells you that the "Dream" comes with a heavy lid. You climb into the jar of success, and then someone screws the top on tight.

So, I am planning an escape.

Not a physical one—I can’t leave. I have a mortgage, employees, and that immigrant fear that says if I stop moving, I will die.

I am escaping into Code and Combustion.

1. Combustion: I bought a motorcycle. A Royal Enfield Meteor 350. I call him Rocky. He is slow, loud, and shakes the corporate stiffness out of my bones.

2. Code: I am building a video game. It is called Sweet and Sticky. It is a physics puzzle about jelly candies trying to climb out of a glass jar while grey, flavorless "Filler Jellies" try to drag them down.

This newsletter is not a leadership blog. I am not going to teach you "5 Ways to Crush Q1."

This is a diary of survival.

Every week, I will tell you the truth about the absurdity of corporate life. I will tell you about the board member who made me want to throw a chair. And then, I will show you the game. I will show you how I turned that rage into a game mechanic. I will show you how I code the physics of escape when I can't escape myself.

If you are a CEO who is tired of pretending, a middle-manager who feels stuck, or just someone who wants to see a grown man try to find the meaning of life in a digital jelly candy... welcome.

The meeting is adjourned. Let’s play.

— Mike