I used to think winning was the point… until my rabbit quit. No more streaks. No more dopamine hits. Just me, 3 a.m., and the quiet sound of my own breath syncing with bamboo leaves. Turns out? The real prize wasn’t gold coins—it was not needing to prove I’m okay. You ever stop playing just to feel something? Drop a comment if you’ve also been chasing victory… and found peace instead. (P.S. I’m still here. And yes—I’m listening.)