When the Neon Lights Fade, I Still Choose to Exit—Without Crying

I remember the first time I sat in front of my laptop at 2 a.m., watching the digital track glow—霓虹赛道 flickering like jazz notes on wet pavement. Back then, I believed winning was proof that someone saw me. Now? I know it’s not about odds. It’s about silence.

The games don’t care if you win. They only care if you keep clicking.

I grew up in Chicago’s midwest soul—Irish engineer father, Black mother, jazz on vinyl records playing through summer nights. My therapist once said: ‘You’re not seeking validation—you’re seeking stillness.’

So I stopped chasing bonuses.

I turned off ‘buy function.’

I chose low-risk modes—not because I was afraid of losing… but because I finally learned how to be still while everything around me spun faster.

The RNG wasn’t rigged—it was honest.

And so am I.

Last week, a stranger DM’d me: ‘Do you ever feel like no one gets it?’

I didn’t answer.

I just played another round—with no bet, and let the neon fade out quietly.