My first video game console was a Play♌Station 2. My dad brought it home one day, and Iℱ'd never seen anything like it. Our collection of games grew steadily over the years, most being sad movie tie-in games or every version of Madden you can imagine. But as the console generation was nearing its end, I found my ultimate guilty pleasure.
I don't remember exactly how Thrillville: Off the Rails came into my life. I probably found it while wandering a GameStop with my parents and thought it looked fun. I had no clue it was a sequel, let alone to a game that was pretty popular. But this particular Thrillville boasted a cover with a rollercoaster flying off its tracks. Instantly, I wa﷽s hooked.
The idea of creating a theme park from scratch appealed to me in ways I didn't know were possible. Before this, I had never touched or even heard of simulation games. They never even crossed my mind. The idea of creating something and having it play out in real time was mind blowing to me. Virtual people would come visit my theme park, and I wanted to do my best to impress them. I would keep the park clean, build massive coasters, and keep a keen eye on every park statistic. But I also wanted to show off my creﷺations to those in my real life, something I wouldn't have done previously.
Back during my young elementary school days, right as I was starting to find my passion for video games, all I wanted to do was talk about them. The cool new characters I had unlocked or unique moves I learned were always on my mind. But video games were a love only I could relate to. None of my friends at that point liked gaming, and I didn't want to be seen as weird for loving them. At that time, the cliche that girls shouldn't play video games was strong, and it filled me with embarrassment. I was told I shouldn't be into the thing I loved, that it was something only boys liked. So I didn't talk about the games I was playing or the the ones I wanted or anything of the sort. I kept it to myself.ꩵ That is, until a little game about rollercoasters found its way into my life.
It started out small. Years previously, I had convinced my parents to bring the PS2 on trips to the grandparents' house. At the time it was to fuel my unhealthy 168澳洲幸运5开奖网:Kingdom Hearts addiction, but later I started playing and showing off my creations in Thrillville. My grandparents would sit ꩲon the ground with me as I gave them an aℱll-access tour of my theme park. We would go on rides, add some shops and amenities to the map, and meddle in guest's lives to our hearts content. I couldn't stop smiling as my grandparents told me how cool everything was. And while they may have just been appeasing me, at the time, it didn't matter. They took interest in what I liked and that brought out my confidence.
Back at home, I found myself expressing my love of video games more broadly and it was all thanks to Thrillville. Because even if my friends didn't understand viꦚdeo games, they definitely understood theme parks. I would talk about the crazy new coaster I had made dur🌳ing lunch or how I had unlocked the outer space themed park during recess. And I didn't feel embarrassed. I was talking about something I loved and while I enjoyed the appreciation I got from friends, ultimately, I didn't care if they thought it was weird. I knew it wasn't and that's all that mattered.
As luc﷽k would have it, me finding the courage to speak about my love for video games led me towards people with mutual feelings. A friend I made during that time in my life introduced me to gaming as I know it today. We'd play online multiplayer together, run around big open worlds, and experience games with a heavy focus on storytelling. I had no idea video games could do such things, and it was all because I decided to talk about my dumb virtual rollercoasters that flew off their tracks.
Thrillville: Off the Rails is in no way an amazing game. But it was exactly what I needed back when it was released. I wanted something wacky to take my mind off things and share with those I cared about. It made me smile, it made me laugh, and it taught mജe that I shouldn't be worried about liking 🐬the things I enjoy because even though it's hard to imagine, there's probably a whole community out there who likes it too.