Are You Playing the Game—or Just Running From Yourself?

I used to believe every match in Fight Chicken was a spark of fate.

Back then, I’d sit in my Brooklyn apartment at midnight, Void curled beside me, eyes glued to flashing chickens on screen—each click a plea: Let me win. Let me escape.

It wasn’t luck I craved. It was relief.

But after years of chasing that golden flame—only to feel emptier after each loss—I began asking a harder question:

Who am I really playing for?

The Rhythm That Feeds Us—and Fools Us

The game mimics rhythm: fast beats, sudden rewards, dopamine spikes. It feels alive—like a samba drum echoing through Rio’s streets.

But beneath the flash lies something deeper: a craving for control in an uncontrollable world.

I noticed it during my first real breakdown after losing R$800 in three rounds. Not because of money—but because my mind had already built a story: This time will be different.

That’s when I realized: we don’t play games—we perform rituals.

Each bet becomes a prayer disguised as strategy.

From Ritual to Reflection: My Rebuilding Process

As someone trained in game narrative design and behavioral psychology, I mapped out what was happening inside me:

• Trigger: Stress → scroll → gamble (10 seconds)
• Pattern: Win = validation; Loss = failure → repeat cycle
• Cognitive distortion: “If only I’d bet differently…” (blame shifting)
• Emotional feedback loop: Excitement → anxiety → shame → numbness → repeat

This is not unique. Studies show that repetitive gambling behaviors are linked more strongly to emotional regulation than financial gain (APA Journal of Behavioral Addictions).

So instead of quitting cold turkey—I redesigned the ritual.

My New Rules: The Golden Flame Protocol 🌟

• ✅ Daily budget = one Brazilian steak dinner (R$65 max) — non-negotiable.
• ✅ Time limit = 20 minutes — set by phone alarm.
• ✅ One goal per session: observe patterns—not win prizes.
• ✅ After each round? Write one sentence: “What did this moment teach me about myself?”
• ✅ If no insight appears? Stop immediately. That’s your signal.

These aren’t rules for winning—they’re boundaries for being human.

Why Mindful Play Matters More Than Winning

The truth is… you’ll never win consistently at games built on randomness. The real victory is recognizing when you’re using them as armor—for grief, loneliness, or silence you haven’t yet named.

When I started journaling these moments, something shifted: some nights I lost all my points—but felt lighter than ever before. The game didn’t change. I did.

Now when I open Fight Chicken, it’s not about gold coins or rankings anymore—it’s about presence. The flicker of light on screen isn’t destiny—it’s attention being returned home. The chicken doesn’t fight for me; it reflects back who I’m becoming under pressure.

We don’t need more wins—we need more awareness.