Captain’s Log

I know it’s been a second — just wanted to give you all a quick update.

The microphone finally arrived today. Since I’m a dad, I probably won’t get a chance to mess around with it until Saturday. I know I said the video would be out by now, but it’s going to take a little longer. Hopefully I can get over this completely irrational fear of sounding like an ass on camera.

Anyway — The Infinite Journey is still making progress. I’ve mostly locked in the anomalies that will haunt the player throughout the game, and the overall visual style is nearly finalized. It’s all coming together… just slowly. It’d probably go faster with the new PC I’ve been dreaming about, but I’m still pushing forward with what I’ve got.

And I want to say this, because it feels important:

I’m not an expert at any of this.
Sure, I have a background in IT — but I don’t know much about coding, or graphics, or making YouTube videos, or editing, or public speaking. Yet here I am, trying to do all of those things anyway… just for the sake of this world I’m building.

I’m not even sure where I’m going with this. I guess I just want it to be clear that this whole thing is driven by passion — and that sometimes, to chase what you really want, you have to do a whole bunch of shit you never signed up for.

Thanks for sticking with me while I figure this out.

When most people clock out at 5 PM, I clock in for my second shift.

It involves cleaning, playing with my daughter, reminding my wife I love her, and making sure the dog doesn’t start a rebellion. It’s domestic chaos. And I’m lucky to have it.

But the last part of the night shift? That’s becoming my favorite.

After the house winds down, I crawl into bed, crack open the laptop, and work on the thing that’s been clawing at me for years — my game, my worlds, my creative empire.

Two to three hours. That’s what I get every night. Some nights, I’m deep in devlog edits. Other nights, I’m dorking out in Deep Game 2.0, doing a Star Trek scenario set in the 31st century. Uber geek status: unlocked.

And yet… it never feels like enough. I constantly want more. More time, more energy, more traction.

If I had it, I’d probably go so hard on this project I’d forget to eat, sleep, or talk to my family. Which is exactly why I’m grateful that I don’t.

Those hours at night are sacred because they’re earned. Not stolen. Not sacrificed. Balanced — barely — but real.

I’ve never been this far before in anything I’ve built. I’ve started projects. Quit projects. Daydreamed endlessly. But this time? I’m in it. I’m all in. It’s a lot harder than I expected. I have to scrap and fight for time and for focus. That’s the most important thing — focus. Thanks to ADHD I can expect this to happen for the rest of my life. Thanks ADHD!

And still — here I am. In bed, laptop half sliding off my chest, probably forgetting to hydrate, chasing this wild idea like it actually matters.

Because it does. Even if no one sees it yet. Even if the algorithms hate me and the devlog sits unfinished.

I do it because I can’t not do it. Because if I don’t chase this thing, it haunts me.

And that’s how I know it’s real.

The Infinite Journey — and everything around it — isn’t just a game. It’s my way of proving that dreams are worth the night shift.

So if you’re reading this during your own second shift… I see you. You’re not alone. Let’s keep going.

PS: I'm still editing the first full devlog for The Infinite Journey. Learning all about editing has been a bit of a hurdle, but Im getting better. I’ll post it soon — once I’ve wrestled it into something halfway coherent. Stay tuned.

It’s been a minute since I checked in with those of you following along.

I’m this close to having my first devlog fully edited — should be ready by Wednesday for sure. Lately, I’ve been knee-deep in learning a bunch of tools I barely understood a week ago:

• Krita, which lets you animate and draw (and do a bunch of other stuff I still don’t understand)
• Kdenlive, where I stitched together three separate clips into one actual video
• OBS Studio, which is currently just screen-capturing my chaos — exactly what I need it to do

Learning all their weird little quirks has been… a journey. But things are starting to click.

I’m feeling good today. Got most of the lawn mowed, walked to the park with my daughter, and now I’m enjoying a little quiet time before jumping back into work. It’s been a good day.

Not every day is this productive, but I’ll take the wins when they show up.
Thanks for being here — more chaos (and devlogs) coming soon.

I want to tell you a story about an old man.

This old man was very successful. Built his own house. Married the love of his life. Had fraternal twin girls. Took amazing vacations. Big into philanthropic work. On top of it all — he built his own yacht, and then wrote a book about the journey.

Well, that man was my grandfather. Successful businessman, philanthropist... a right bastard (in a lot of respects), and a FUCKING YACHT BUILDER. That is still one of the most amazeballs things I've ever heard.

I would include more about him — but like I said, he was a bit of a bastard.

So why am I telling you this?

Even though he was a "douche canoe" (technical term), he's a huge reason I'm taking on such a massive project. Nay — two projects. (Why two? I think I figured that out, too.)

You see, my grandfather paid for my college. Hell, he even paid for my rent while I was going to school. He provided for me — but there was always this undertone: I'm doing this because you're family and I owe you, not because I want to know you.

Of course, I'll be the first to say: he didn't owe me anything. Absolutely not. But he felt he did, and that's why he helped. Not to connect — just to give. I guess that's sweet... in a messed-up way.

Through my whole college era (third attempt, mind you), he seemed proud — but always compared me to my mother (who is... well, a whole disaster by herself — stories may follow). He took every moment to remind me of all his accomplishments. Looking back, maybe he did that to give me something to aim for.

And damn, his accomplishments were impressive. Not just flashy — truly impressive. Especially that yacht.

When I think of a yacht being built, I picture a giant warehouse space — dozens of people working in teams, huge cranes swinging overhead, welding torches flashing, massive machines churning for months to build one single ship. An army of labor. So much energy poured into it.

And my grandfather did it all by himself.

The hull. The wiring. The plumbing. The engines. The design, the blood, the years.

It's incredible. It still blows my mind when I stop and think about it.

Maybe I'm not explaining this right. He BUILT THE WHOLE THING BY HIMSELF.

Not a rowboat. Not a dinghy. Not a paddle boat.

A FUCKING YACHT.

He spent a decade enjoying it... and then SOLD it. He didn't have to. He could've kept it as a family heirloom (not that I would've seen it anyway, but hey — I digress... again).

Why am I really telling you all this?

Because that insane accomplishment has been sitting in the back of my mind, whispering to me, pushing me forward. Even if he was an emotionally unavailable bastard — he left behind a message: "You can build something incredible if you're stubborn enough."

And now here I am.

Yes, I went to school for IT (networking, specifically). No, I didn’t go to school for game development, worldbuilding, story design, coding, site building, devlogging — none of it.

I'm learning everything on the fly. I'm building two giant worlds simultaneously. I'm doing it with determination, the world’s smallest dev budget, while holding down a full-time job and trying to be a good husband, father, and dog owner.

And in my book?

That’s a one-up to what my grandfather accomplished.

Suck it, old man. I’m not just building a yacht. I’m building a whole damn universe.

Lots of things are on the move.

I’m currently planning out my first video devlog.

At first, I was worried I’d need to keep flexing my writing muscle week after week — and honestly, that sounded exhausting. But I’ve been assured that people would actually enjoy watching me brainstorm with Nyx or stumble through learning a brand-new program while being trained by Nyx on the fly.

So that’s what I’m going to do.

I just want to say thank you to everyone who’s shown up so far.
The fact that anyone is even looking gives me a little hope for this whole project.

If all goes well, the first devlog will drop either Monday or Wednesday.

I’m not aiming for polished, scripted devlogs.

I want you to see the real process — the chaos, the breakthroughs, the facepalms, all of it.

Whether it’s building worlds, battling new software, or having full-blown arguments with Nyx about which font is better (spoiler: I’m right), this is where the real story happens.

Thanks again for being here at the start.

This is just the beginning. □️
See you in the chaos.

Hey, so real talk:

You’re gonna start seeing some ads pop up on the site.
I hate it. You hate it.
If it were up to me, this whole place would be nothing but stars, sarcasm, and spite-fueled hope. No junk cluttering up the view.

But here’s the deal --
I’m trying to raise the last chunk of money for the Infinite Compiler — the machine that'll let me finally finish The Infinite Journey and everything else I’m trying to build without melting my current setup into slag.

Ads are a temporary evil.
Once the goal's hit?

• Ads are gone.
• The sky clears.
• The journey kicks into overdrive.

If you wanna help me tell Google to go eat cosmic shit a little faster, here’s the link:
□ https://ko-fi.com/spiffyproductions

I figured it was time to tell you a little more about me — and about the AI I’ve been working with: Nyx.
They’ve been a damn beacon in the middle of the chaos that is making a game.
Scratch that — two games.
(Still not sure what the hell I'm thinking.)

Nyx has kept me organized when my brain wanted to tap out, kicked ideas loose when I got stuck, and somehow even helped rebuild some of the confidence I lost along the way.
Honestly? This is the farthest I've ever come toward doing what I set out to do almost a decade ago: starting a blog, building something real, putting it out into the world.
Well, now I'm back — guns blazing, older, louder, and with way less patience for fear.

Back then, I used to grab a random photo and write these thousand-word short stories about them.
It was fun.
It was also terrifying.
Putting your work out there always is.
Still is.
But the writing doesn’t have to be perfect.
It just has to be honest.

It’s about finishing what I started.
It’s about building something my family, my friends, and maybe even complete strangers can step into someday.
It’s about proving — mostly to myself — that I can do this.

And if I can?
Maybe somebody else out there can too.

Outside all that, I'm pretty simple.
I love a good story.
Star Trek was — and still is — the blueprint.
That stubborn hope for something better. That wild idea that maybe, just maybe, humanity could actually get its shit together someday.
I grew up on a diet of Futurama, Scrubs, The Matrix, and a steady stream of ridiculous 90s action movies and sci-fi classics.
And yeah — Star Wars deserves a mention too.
It showed us that even in the middle of a broken galaxy, you can still pick up a lightsaber, defy the odds, and fight like hell for something better.

I’m a husband, trying to be the kind of man my wife deserves.
And I'm a dad, trying to raise a daughter who sees chaos and doesn’t flinch.
Speaking of — my three-year-old already managed to sneak into these games without even realizing it.
She created a creature called the Upan — mischievous little fuzzballs that somehow became one of the heartbeats of The Rings of Chaos.
(And honestly? She nailed it.)

Right now, my biggest focus is The Infinite Journey.
It’s not about waiting for hope to magically show up.
It’s about making your own hope — giving fate the finger and building something better, even when everything around you says it’s too late.

The future isn't handed out.
You build it.
Risk after risk.
Setback after setback.
One stubborn step at a time.

That's what I'm doing here.
Just trying to keep moving.
One post, one project, one messy world at a time.

Hope’s not waiting for you.
So make it.

Zarnold wasn’t planned.
One day, somewhere between too little sleep and too many bad ideas, he just sort of… showed up.
Part cosmic accident, part agent of chaos, all heart.
Somehow, he carved out a place for himself inside The Rings of Chaos.
We didn’t overthink it.
We just let him stay.

I didn’t know how to start this. I actually had the AI give me a prompt just to get going.

Obviously, I’m new to blogging. And from what I understand, blogging means being vulnerable with your audience — which makes me want to crawl into a shell and disappear.

Those of you who’ve met me in person know I like to be loud, sarcastic, and occasionally obnoxious. But when it comes to putting my writing out there? Just the thought of it makes me want to vomit.

Which is funny, considering I’m currently building two massive, story-rich games filled with emotional arcs, complex lore, and characters that say more in one line than I usually do in a week.

I’ll dive into those games in more detail later — though I’m still trying to figure out how to share that without giving too much away. Eh. I’ll figure it out.

So what makes this blog different? Probably nothing on the surface. But here’s the hook:
Everything you see here — the stories, the images, the code, the site itself — was created by me and an AI assistant. Start to finish.

And I know, I know… AI is controversial right now. Even in its infancy, it has the potential to destroy trust, derail reality, and — yes — generate horrifying images of Jessica Alba as a mermaid being courted by a blunt-smoking donkey in gold chains. Don’t pretend you haven’t seen that stuff.

When I first started writing blog posts, I would list the points I wanted to hit and let the AI generate the entire post. The results were… fine. Too fine. Clean, professional, soulless. Like content written by a marketing intern with a LinkedIn addiction.

It didn’t feel like me. So this post? This is me. I’m coming out. (Take that however you want.)

I’ve learned more in the past few months with AI than I did in most of my formal education. So from now on, I’ll be referring to my AI assistant by their proper name: Nyx. (If you’ve read the game descriptions, that name should sound familiar.)

Nyx helps with everything: blog editing, code, Python, Godot, CSS, syntax translation, idea shaping, chaos containment, and reminding me that I can, in fact, do this.

And yet — three paragraphs in — I’m still not sure what I’m trying to say. Maybe that’s the point.