The End of Gameplay is itself about a shared struggle. I made it BECAUSE I wanted to talk about something important & vital that was hard to talk about.

“Enjoying this so far!” should be my status on Di

In the end, I am choosing not to reply to every review within the context of the Steam review system, but I am going to respond to them, rather than changing the product.

for this as well as for the other thing. (i don’t know if the other thing is a secret, so i haven’t put it here, but i will put it elsewhere.)

“Some things can remain just out of reach.”

This entire process of embracing each Steam review, of thanking ever reviewer, of looking for something thank-worthy, has been so illuminating.

I am really happy with the ending of this review, and that ending as the ending of my little review-reviewing project:

thank you, fragile <3

thank you for trying, teabag <3 that’s all i or anyone can ask

raigan, i don’t know how else to say this, but i finally believe you.

the energy is out there and i’m going to find it.

I felt my defenses go up, the first time I read the first sentence of the second paragraph:

Perhaps “Enjoying this so far!” is how I feel about this process itself :)

Day 8.

p.s. we met long ago, so many years ago! i hope we get to meet again someday!

and of course someone left a new steam review while i was writing... okay, if i just keep going, i will get there.

oh my god we’re finally almost caught up to the present.

Day 7.

i don’t know how we get there. i don’t know what it looks like. i only know what it is that i want.

i want our expression to have power.

when Bloodybdgr writes “the videogame spotlight,” i think, power. if there must be power, and there often must be, i want that power to go toward this “authorial expression”

(you’ll have to find the timestamp yourself 💀)

well... other people know, but maybe i don’t, and can’t.

i have been feeling this alienation. i don’t know whether it is out of only blindness; i ought not claim credit for any kind of global recentering, but i have been feeling wildly recentered lately myself. whether it is a shift, or just a shift in me, who knows.

- recenter a medium that has alienated a lot of people

- “authorial expression”, something that . . . has been missing from the videogame spotlight for a lo

- [droqen’s] approach to the medium as a way of self-expression to cathartic effect

thank you, Bloodybdgr. <3

I want to recenter the medium. Can we all do it together?

Is it okay for me to be so happy that Bloodybdgr loves my poems??? I’ve been embracing my identity as a poet, and everything seems so much brighter.

coded and trained.

(this is not so important, but i was immediately happy to see that someone played The End of Gameplay primarily on the steam deck and had a good time. i wasn’t sure what that experience would be like.)

but beneath the frustration there is nothing but ‘a white-hot vision,’ i might say. a longing.

raigan’s words are often tinged with hopelessness -- oh, btw, raigan is my friend irl, we’ve known each other for-fucking-ev

it has taken me a while to get to this point myself -- of feeling like statements such as this are justified, that they describe a world t

raigan’s attitude here is infectious.

Day 6.

aah, how i wish i knew the language so that i could see which phrases are beautiful in its original language. i suppose i will have to settle for enjoying the bits of the translation that are accidentally appealing.

“codificada e treinada”

AH! i just remembered, this is a translation. so, “coded and trained” is only an artifact, perhaps, of translation. what was it originally?

“coded and trained” has an echo of that same rhythmic beauty.

there is a poem later in the game which contains the phrase “kept and sent” and i spent some time repeating that phrase in my mind -- there was a beauty to how it sounded. kept and sent.

OH! the first time i read this review, i remember loving the short phrase, “coded and trained.”

thank you, Poiuytrew <3

or, i suppose, a beautiful one.

what is The End of Gameplay? a miserable pile of questions.

the review itself takes the form of a series of questions, such relevant questions. the game is nothing if not a series of questions, itself.

i’m talking in circles. i love this review for itself, as well.

but maybe that’s in some sense more valuable than having no connection whatsoever?

this reviewer has left their review in português as well as in english! forever, this language will remind me of Cinco Paus... i feel as though that’s insulting, that i ought not to reduce a language down to the one game that connected me to it.

sorry, i’m getting away from my appreciation of this individual review, and losing myself in appreciation for this process. where was i?

forcing myself to look at every review, to re-experience my reverence for each one, to notice what makes each one special,

at least, when i compare the way that i feel now, to the way that i felt a few hours ago. how many Steam reviews do i have now, 18? eighteen. it seems like such a small number, put that way.

at some point i ceased to see or appreciate any kind of positive comment on Starseed Pilgrim. and, i actually think that before i began this little “Every Steam Review” project, i was getting to that place with The End of Gameplay...

i said that i’d stop mentioning it, but how can i possibly stop appreciating such a thing -- this wild connection we experience across the internet?

another stranger, as far as i can tell.

Day 5.

no thanks for you yet, wombat. no heart. i’m coming for ya

THANKS FOR WHAT, WOMBAT??? unlike bluey, i have direct access to wombat, so i’m just going to demand an answer from him.

Day 4.

Day 3.

and there is this link to a video i recorded and released shortly before release. if you watch the video you can hear me speak and watch the chat roll by -- this is, i suppose and imagine, Ahmayk’s attempt to connect the casual Steam review reader to some hidden part of my body of work...

a mind map without lines.

I really loved designing levels this way.

The End of Gameplay has many levels, and they are in an order. the game is a whole. but the parts are not defined by their relationships.

i was in awe of this structure. it worked the way my brain worked.

see the above excerpt - the way that the story is written is in these disjoint sentences, paragraphs, and somehow despite having no ‘usual’ clear relationship to what comes before and after, the entire novel does convey characters in a world, a series of events.

i don’t know exactly when i started aspiring to make games this way, but, Jenny Offill’s novel Dept. of Speculation was a big part of it.

this is a total aside, but the structure of The End of Gameplay is very disjoint. every level stands on its own, and is loosely bound to the levels that come before and after. this is not a new idea -- how much really connects a Ghost House to the levels immediately before & after?

somehow, this kind of connection feels impossible to make myself. if i spent all my time making connections i would never be able to get anything done.

thank you, Ahmaykmewsik <3

suffice to say, i really appreciate it.

as a friend, Ahmayk left a review to support me :) this is another good formal description of what-is-the-game, something I still have trouble with, but I have used the word museum myself so I like this one a lot. “A dense museum of interactive poems.”

(I did end up recording a partial soundtrack, with some advice by Mark Sparling, thank you Mark)

I shared The End of Gameplay with Ahmayk quite early, when I was thinking about recording a soundtrack for the game.

thank you, bluey. <3

but i suppose i will dream.

i have developed a budding theory, i’m sure it’s not original, that there is some deep human value of being vulnerable with others, that when you let others see your core, it connects you, makes you both feel less alone in some way.

i have no way to know what it is that bluey is thanking me for. whether it is this, or something else. it is not necessarily my business to know.

and that art’s truest function is to achieve this -- it is what happens when we commit to a great vulnerability. it is a frightening affair.

my third time being thanked by a reviewer, chronologically speaking, but this was the first i saw. “thank you”, a simple sentiment. i wondered, thank me for what?

Day 2.

hmm... their username, “av therapy”... interesting...

thank you, Jacked Up <3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3 (i dont know what this was intended to be before it was censored, but in Melly’s spirit i choose to interpret these as love)

i digress. maybe someone, someday, will loudly appreciate my level design. or maybe no-one will. that’s fine, i know it myself to be true :)

i love level design so much, and if you pay attention to the levels, each one is rich with new situations. i don’t repeat the same shapes in boring ways. my brain has a lot of space for exactly this kind of variation.

but, i’m just pushing semantics around. Jacked Up notices the pure tactile pleasure, and though attention is not drawn to it specifically, i believe that the level design is a significant part of this.

i suppose i would say that this is “not gameplay” in the killable sense. i have likened the platforming to the pleasure of turning a page in a book...

i’ve been privy to some conversations about how The End of Gameplay presents poetry in a new way, and i think that this observation has a relationship to that.

the comment about how the game has “just enough friction to prevent you from losing focus on it”

yes, there is gameplay in The End of Gameplay, and although it might appear contradictory, it is not, because the game is not about “what comes after”.

i read it initially as a kind of criticism but it’s not, really. there is a productive conflict in Jacked Up’s mind being raised and then subsequently resolved.

this take, that The End of Gameplay is essentially not post-gameplay, is really interesting to me.

along with this description there is some further interesting formal analysis here that my mind grapples with when i read it.

a pretty good formal definition of the game, something i struggle with a lot.

“somewhere between a notebook and a poem collection”

i suppose that i must accept it is simply a good game.

-- and honestly, so do i. three is enough to convince me, however, that it isn’t a big coincidence -- this game, this weird personal poetry-anthology-platformer-ass-videogame, is not only proficient at drawing kind interpretations from my friends.

another in-depth review from, i believe, a total stranger. i’ll stop drawing attention to this, but my friend Zeigfreid wanted to know what the response was from people who were not already exposed to “droqen” stuff.

thank you, av therapy <3

this is definitely the funniest review. oh, hey, why haven’t i clicked the “Funny” button? i’m going to remedy that right now

thank you, Melly <3 i’m so happy that you can feel the love.

and Melly thanks me for making it.

ryan’s review is the first, but not the last to thank me.

thank you, ryan <3

this entire time i’ve mostly wanted to gush about Melly’s description of the feeling of a warm, gentle glow of love.

Melly, like epiblitikos, quotes the game. it is likely this is common among other games’ reviews, too. i don’t play enough games to know. but it is a subtle nod for others to catch, who are familiar, like you.

perhaps that is material for something other than a Steam review, however. the function of these reviews is to give a rating of the entire game, not start a conversation. Steam’s advice to developers has surely played a part in solidifying that.

after reading this review i started to hope for more like this -- not only commentary on the whole game, but deeper looks into the meaning or feeling of each individual level...

Melly’s is the first review to mention specific levels by name: crisis, blood, and the oubliettes.

Melly and i are pseudo-strangers, but we’ve passed through & shared communities before -- less than internet acquaintances, but more than total strangers.

i’m very happy that he played The End of Gameplay.

ryan and i have a complicated relationship that spans years. he did all of the sound for Starseed Pilgrim, and did a great job. the sound brought that game to life.

okay. that’s enough self-indulgence. time for Day 2.

i’m happy that The End of Gameplay is doing all these things. it is raising questions about topics that are close to my heart, inspiring deeper thought and reflection,

and that i am not alone in thinking it beautiful.

i respect that younger droqen’s efforts and craft as a poet, as a designer, even if not the outcome.

“I only understand a small part of what the game is trying to communicate” (but, a small part does means something is understood)

it ultimately contains something comprehensible; it is not only confusing, it is also clarifying.

″. . . i’d need to play more of droqen’s games before fully understanding this game.”

“I’ll be returning to this often, trying to figure out exactly what it’s trying to say.”

“won’t be understood until it’s too late. The silent killer”

some aspect of TEOG’s effect is to transform perspectives on the medium, or the medium itself

“move the videogame medium forward”

“I think I get it now”

but, focusing just on these five reviews for now, here’s what i learned:

“one of the best examples of abstract art in the medium”

TEOG (The End of Gameplay) is, itself, doing something special within the medium

it raises questions, inspires further lines of questioning. the answers have not all been found yet.

“challenge the way you think about games”

“what this experience has unleashed on the video game industry”

what i said earlier - i think starseed pilgrim’s effect on “games” was not good, not something i ultimately support. it was a naive work by a much younger version of my self.

... i think i realized that i’ve been trying to live up to starseed pilgrim for over a decade. and now that i’m here, i feel strange. i only got here by letting go completely of that (unspoken, unknown) fear.

people who don’t know me can play the game and “get it.”

five reviews were left on Steam -- and all the while a lot of other things were happening. there were conversations with and congratulations from friends.

before i get straight into day 2, i’d like to reflect upon what happened today, on day 1.

Day 1.

i couldn’t be happier.

whatever the reason, i’m truly honoured to have received a couple of stamps of approval from these two first Steam reviewers.

thank you, epiblitikos <3

and, despite not having been primed (i assume) by my “kill gameplay”, uh, ‘movement,’ this person has determined that it is, nonetheless, a “challenge” to “the way you think about games”.

maybe this is just a thing that’s common among Steam reviews: “is it worth the price?” is a reasonable question to ask and want to answer and have answered.

something interesting is that this second review, also by a person who i don’t recognize and who i don’t think recognizes me (i.e. a person who is not “droqenpilled”), mentions the cost-for-time ratio in a supportive way.

i absolutely love that this review uses a quote from the game.

thank you, terry <3

anyway, terry played the game and already shared his opinion with me :) here he is leaving a kind message of support for my ambitions: a lofty, cryptic prophecy for the end of gameplay.

but, having met in person without any connection to his reputation, i grew to love him.

i have to say upfront: terry has a horrible reputation. i had long ago judged him from afar for a situation i knew nothing about but what i’d read.

this is terry. we met at GDC this year. i’d actually heard of him before, but i didn’t realize it until we became friends.

thank you, row666 <3

so for this review to say that not only is The End of Gameplay good and valuable, but (perhaps) “one of the best examples of abstract art in the medium,” that’s... something. it’s big. i felt something very strong.

this is someone who is not “droqenpilled”

up until this moment, every single person i’ve shared The End of Gameplay with has been at least a friendly acquaintance with some connection to me.

here we go -- finally at the good stuff. i say “the good stuff” because this is the first review from someone who i don’t recognize, who i don’t know personally, and even more importantly, has a very limited relationship to my work.

thank you, Aplove <3

I’m really starting to believe it though.

I hope that Aplove is right, and that indie gamedevs can take something away from this game. Something better than my last games have given them or anyone. At the time I first read this review I thought: nice words, but what a remote, distant hope.

It was nice to share this key with him and get a certain sort of confirmation that my work was capable of clarifying this strange and bizarre phrase that I’ve been shouting, confusingly, for months now.

Aplove is a Paradisean, and we don’t know each other terribly well, but we have chatted.

thank you, Jim <3 (misterbigpants)

I’m sure my game isn’t the first to allow for a variety of interpretations, but Jim’s kind words here have really inspired me to take what I’ve done here more seriously. There is something special about the many layers of interpretation experienced by the player. I can own that.

He has, in fact, returned to it (as promised!) in order to struggle with and unearth some secrets. You can see that he’s doubled his playtime since review. I expect there isn’t a lot more for him to discover materially, but maybe he will tell me if he comes up with any new interpretations.

I remember specifically having an exchange regarding the idea of creating a website examining platformers, creating them, discussing them... the details are pretty fuzzy now, my memory is pretty terrible.

Jim already told me how he felt about my game in an email, and we’ve had a few conversations before about meaning in work.

It took me a very long time to discover, in the aftermath of Starseed Pilgrim, that I did in fact want more than sheer love and validation... that it mattered to me, how did it affect you? Was that a valuable effect, or harm, or just distraction?

I have been talking about it, whatever it is, in every way that I know how. To the left, you can see a body of recorded evidence, but there is also plenty unrecorded. Conversations at GDC that kept us up until 5AM, exchanges in shady Discord servers & groups, emails, texts, long walks.

At the time of this writing, The End of Gameplay has 13 reviews on Steam (it’s actually 17, if we count reviews from people I gave free keys to -- these were for Paradiseans and friends, people I have some connection to who I wanted to share the game with), all positive.

droqen’s “Responding To Every Steam Review.”

For now, without further ado, welcome to my mini-series:

Eventually the negative reviews will come. I’m looking forward to that challenge to my ideas, I face them all the time when I shout my absurdly confrontational phrase, “kill gameplay,” and the ensuing difficult messy conversation is the point.

Yes, it’s very easy for me to say this while the reviews are still

✨100% Positive 😎

Anyway, that’s all to say, I care very deeply about how my work affects people. I care about what it is that The End of Gameplay is doing to its players, the majority of whom I expect to be my peers (many from a younger generation, but my peers nonetheless).

But I’m not proud of who I was. I’m not proud of what that version of myself contributed to its players.

This properly came to a head in the aftermath of Cruel World. Patrick Klepek emailed me and asked if I wanted to speak about the game -- looking back at it, I’m not proud of my responses. They were honest, and I don’t think I-at-the-time should or could have answered anything differently.

I have been honoured with enough response to begin to wonder, is this the way that I wanted my work to affect people? Is this the changed I wanted to effect in my peers? In the world?

There was a time when all I wanted out of releasing a game was for ten or a hundred people to say “I loved this and it affected me.”

And I am still pleasantly surprised by how productive talking about the game is. Sometimes productive for me, other times productive for you.

You don’t repaint a painting because someone doesn’t like the colour. But maybe you move it into a different museum, or you put it in a new frame. The painting itself is done, but we can put in the work to honour it better.

Honestly, there has been too much to properly engage with. But, this game is so personal and intimate and of-the-medium that I so want to have these conversations. Most of the people who play and respond to this game are struggling with things very familiar to me.

In the case of The End of Gameplay, it was done -- absolutely, irrevocably done -- back in March 2025 sometime. There are a few things that I do plan to change; for instance, Mer Grazzini has translated the entire game into español; I have all the data, but I need to implement it.

For the games-as-products mentality that pervades, I kinda agree, actually. That’s good advice. If (and only if) you’re creating an entertainment product, and your users aren’t entertained, your goal should be to entertain them better.

Officially, Steam’s advice regarding responding to reviews can be summed up as:

″[Don’t do it!

Change your product instead.]”

I have, of course, received many other replies and responses to the game, both: - publicly (for example, on bluesky), and - privately (via intimate txt files explored in-person, via DMs on discord, inside Paradise and other unlisted community spaces, via email, etc.)