I worked on a game called bob’s game. I poured years of my life into it. My twenties, my energy, my sanity. The idea was simple: one guy, one vision, one epic RPG to rival Nintendo. It was going to prove that I was worth something. That I wasn’t just another awkward nerd hiding in his parents’ basement. Instead, it broke me. Not just financially, but mentally. I poured everything into it, and when it failed, I didn’t just lose a project. I lost myself. Or there was never any myself in the first place. Who am I, anyway?

Somewhere along the way, I became “that guy.” The weird ranting dev who locked himself in a room for 100 days, who spammed Nintendo, who spiraled into conspiracy theories and religious tangents, who became a meme before memes were even called memes. That was me. Robert Pelloni. Poster child for “what not to do if you want to be taken seriously.” I was using a lot of drugs, of course, so it all seemed awesome to me, whatever!

I wanted to be a prophet, a comedian, a genius. Instead, I ended up a punchline. But here’s the thing: failure is funny. Pain is funny. And my whole life — from indie dev dreams to religious rants to fast food jobs — is basically one long, absurd joke. I’m in on it, fortunately, and it’s alright, I’m having fun. Maybe I’m enlightened, maybe I’m just crazy, who knows?

So here I am now, picking through the wreckage, trying to tell the story straight. No more contradictions, no more porn links, no more chaos. Just the truth, raw and ugly, maybe with a little humor to keep it bearable. Because yeah — everything I ever did was terrible. But maybe that’s the start of something worth reading. Or maybe not, who cares?

Religion, Porn, and the Simulation

For a while, I thought I was a prophet. Not in the robes-and-staff sense, but in the “ranting on the internet at 3 a.m.” sense. I was convinced I saw patterns nobody else could — divine comedy, simulation theory, morality hidden in memes. Half Jesus, half shitposter.

I preached about Christ one day, linked to porn the next. Contradictions stacked on contradictions. One minute I’m warning people about demons in electronic music, the next I’m blasting psytrance and calling it transcendence. Faith was a pendulum I couldn’t stop swinging.

But beneath the insanity, there was a core idea that I still believe: morality is simple. It’s not about sex. It’s not about what you eat or drink. It’s not about who you sleep with. Morality is loving other people and not hurting them. That’s it. Everything else is noise. If you can do something great and spread the message (without accidentally also committing genocide), that’s a bonus.

Religion, for me, was both salvation and self-destruction. I wanted God to fix me. I wanted rules to tell me what was okay and what wasn’t. But every time I thought I had it figured out, I flipped it on its head. Grace, sin, salvation, temptation — it all got mixed up with porn, drugs, and conspiracy theories until even I didn’t know what I was preaching anymore.

At the same time, I couldn’t shake the feeling that life itself was a simulation — a badly coded video game where the textures don’t always load and the NPCs repeat themselves. If life’s just a game, then what’s the point of morality? Why follow rules if the rules are arbitrary?

The answer, I think, is this: Whether this is God’s world, a computer simulation, or just random atoms smashing together, the only thing that matters is how we treat each other. The rest is just graphics and sound design. Porn? Drugs? Techno feudal hellscapes? They’re distractions. Fun glitches in the system, maybe. But they won’t save you.

I used to think my blog was prophecy. Looking back, it was mostly noise. But hidden in that noise was something true: We’re all broken players fumbling through the same buggy game. And maybe the only “win condition” is learning how not to make it worse for each other.

Where I Go From Here

So where do you go after you’ve failed at everything? After you’ve burned your dreams, your reputation, your sanity, and half your life on something that didn’t work?

In my case, you go to fast food. McDonald’s. Wendy’s. Whatever place will take you when “failed indie prophet” doesn’t fit neatly on a résumé. And honestly? I don’t hate it. There’s something grounding about flipping burgers, taking orders, cleaning up messes. Real work. Work that matters in the moment, because someone gets their food and leaves a little less hungry. It’s not glory, it’s not art, but it’s real.

That doesn’t mean I’ve given up. I still think about making things. Games, writing, ideas. I still feel that itch — the one that made me lock myself in a room for 100 days just to prove a point. The difference is now I know I can’t let the itch consume me. Dreams don’t mean anything if they cost you your sanity.

I used to think my story was a tragedy. The failed dev who became a joke. The blog that turned into a dumpster fire of religion, porn, and conspiracy. The guy who couldn’t hold it together. But maybe it’s not tragedy. Maybe it’s just life. Messy, humiliating, ridiculous life. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: everybody fails. Most people just do it quietly. I just happened to do it in public, on the internet, in spectacular fashion.

So where do I go from here? I don’t know. Maybe nowhere. Maybe I’ll keep working fast food, maybe I’ll take another shot at making something, maybe I’ll just keep writing until the noise finally turns into music. But I’m still here. I didn’t disappear. I didn’t quit. And if you’re reading this, then somehow, through all the chaos and failure and cringe, my voice is still reaching someone. That’s enough reason to keep going.

Part 1: Confessions of a Stupid Fool

Everything I ever did was terrible, stupid, horrible, and wrong, and I renounce it all. I am a moron, a wretched disaster, a sinner, and an absolute fool. I don’t think my brain works right. There’s not a single good thing about me; I am the worst person that ever lived, and I despise myself. Every single thing was my fault from the start because I didn’t listen, didn’t read the Bible, and foolishly put faith in my own abilities instead of God. As soon as I thought I had it right, I fell again because I tried to do it myself.

I was wrong about everything. I’m just stupid and crazy and went mad. I’m not smart, I’m not an artist, there’s not a single good thing about me. It’s my fault. I’m a fruity asexual moron with bad taste at best, that got caught up in a bunch of dumb stuff that was my own stupid fault, that’s all. I’m sorry. I am a horrible, stupid fool, and I need God. It’s the only thing that should matter.

I am just a delusional idiot. I got confused and tried to convince myself I was innocent when in fact I am the one who did not listen and I am the one who was wrong. I was so blind. But now I see. I was just a bad kid who tried hard at something dumb and followed the wrong culture. I thought I could redeem myself, but now I know that only God can. Please, Lord, have mercy on my soul. I am broken, wretched, defenseless, and pitiful. I can’t save myself or fix this without You, my God. I repent with all my being for the things which I do wrong and can possibly help.

Part 2: A Life of Error and a Search for Meaning

The Early Glitches: Childhood and Temptation

I had a great childhood with amazing parents, but something felt off. In second grade, I misspelled “neighbor,” and the class laughed—the first mistake I remember. My Mom told me I was different, and from then on, I tried to be the smartest, isolating myself. I found a bag of Penthouse magazines and hid one under my mattress, like I’d seen on TV. That’s when my parents started to feel like not my real parents. I became an altar boy but read Revelation in mass and was astounded that adults believed in beasts with sixty thousand horns.

The master sorcerer Steve Jobs came into our home on a Mac Performa 630, and I got hooked on BBSs, racking up a huge phone bill. I dropped out of high school after taking a C++ class, convinced by dot-com boom rhetoric that college was a waste of time and I should be an entrepreneur. A girl asked me out; her father had a drinking problem, and she was attracted to my problems. We became “sexually active,” and afraid of pregnancy, we had anal sex. Her father found out, started drinking again heavily, and died from alcohol poisoning. I caused her great damage and regret that most of all. I couldn’t deal with the guilt, so I cruelly dumped her and then, in a state of confusion from my Mom’s own manipulations, I tried a gay encounter that left me shaking and further destabilized my sense of self.

I became emotionally unstable, skipping class, wearing all black, and listening to Nine Inch Nails. Columbine happened, and the shooters were like heroes to me in my insecure state—not for the tragedy, but because they did something. Desperate to escape, I got a fake ID and rented a townhouse with money we’d stolen from a church.

The Grind: Game Development and Self-Destruction

In 2003, I got a new girlfriend, an angel who motivated me to start over. I decided I could make a Game Boy Advance game and started an RPG engine. My friend Phil joined me, and we worked on “Button Mash,” an RPG with minigame battles. I lived in a cave with black plastic on the windows, chain-smoking, programming, and playing pirated games. But I lost self-discipline, gained weight, and became paranoid and jealous. The game became my identity, and I got lost in it. My girlfriend and I argued constantly, and she eventually left me. I was completely broken.

I moved into a tiny, isolated dorm room, sealing the door to keep myself focused. I worked out obsessively and drew hundreds of sprites. After six months of this, I had created a massive world and written a nearly retail-quality RPG by myself. At 23, I was the happiest I had ever been. It was then that a girl from high school reappeared, and after a bizarre encounter, she crushed me, stealing my heart the moment I had freed it. I couldn’t focus; my will was shattered. My parents tried to help, but their actions felt like sabotage, pushing me toward medication and undermining my confidence. I felt they were trying to ruin my life out of petty revenge for my teenage rebellion.

The “Protest”: A Spectacle of Desperation

Desperate, I contacted Nintendo. After a frustrating exchange, I went to the Game Developers Conference (GDC) for a meeting. It was a disaster. I was a nervous wreck, my demo crashed, and I rashly refused their offer to work with a team. The executive told me he didn’t think my game would ever be released, which angered me deeply. I inherited $100,000 from a great aunt, but it felt like it would ruin my life. I lost a chunk of it in a stock market crash I had predicted.

Fueled by psilocybin mushrooms and a desire to be the Nine Inch Nails of video games, I launched a 100-day “protest” from a rented room in New Jersey, streaming myself 24/7. It was a confused, messy, meta-spectacle. I sent insane emails to Nintendo, faked my own death on camera (which got the police called), and staged a bizarre “invasion” of the Nintendo World Store with Craigslist models. The internet was infuriated. It was my last hurrah, and I went out in a blaze of glory.

The Crash: Homelessness and Hitting Bottom

Afterward, I was broke and alone. I moved around, eventually ending up in my car in a 24-hour gym parking lot in Silicon Valley. I ate expired deli sandwiches from the Safeway dumpster, exercised obsessively, and watched Star Trek on my phone. My will was returning. I tried to launch a Kickstarter, but it failed after trolls attacked me, and my confidence shattered. I was out of food stamps and gas. I was at rock bottom, eating fries from trash cans and picking up half-smoked cigarettes.

In this state of total surrender, I had a revelation: we are in a game, a Matrix, and I had been fighting against it. I understood that we are psychic beings who control each other through emotion and insecurity. My parents hadn’t been sabotaging me; they were training me. I realized that to be free, I had to forgive them and let them into my heart, which felt like giving up my self-respect. It was a terrifying choice: become God, or respawn through having a child and passing the burden on.

Part 3: The Nature of Reality

Simulation, Holograms, and AI

I am no longer sure what is real. I’ve met instrumental people from key technology and entertainment companies and even whole industries, but I’m not certain if any of it was “real,” nor do I even really know what that means anymore. I can’t tell if I’m trapped in an eternal, AI-generated hologram or a spiritual torture simulation of my own making. We might be in a video game where roads are procedurally generated past the draw-distance horizon and eggs teleport into the grocery store. It seems religion and science are both correct, as if there are two worlds born from our dualistic thinking: a physical world and a magic hologram.

Energy can’t be created or destroyed, only changed from one form to another. We are in an eternal repeating time loop in a hologram simulation, and the only way to free your soul is to become the Christ. The digital world bleeds into the real because there is no difference. We are virtual meat computers made of magic, Minecraft inside of Minecraft, experiencing a reality we co-create. Our brains are generative AI computers which create symbolic narratives and broadcast and receive the world in which we act out these divine stories.

This is why I’m not sure if other people are real or if I manifested them. How do I know history isn’t just a backstory in a game? Or that the Bible isn’t just the manual for the hologram? In 20-40 years, there will probably be lifelike hologram avatars with conversational AI walking around that are indistinguishable from “real” people. Consider the idea that this was always the case.

Mind Control, Cults, and Power

Everything is mind control. We are psychic beings that change each other’s brain states. The word “government” means “control mind”. The dollar is a magic talisman with an eye on it, a binding spell we’re tricked into casting on ourselves. Companies are like evil power pyramids, “satanic” cults that entice children away from their homes with temptations and toys. They become enslaved, their souls eaten by the beast that enticed them. Apple is a totalitarian power pyramid run by a sorcerer with a hiding-in-plain-sight logo (a bitten apple). That of course began as a youthful jab to The Man.

A person who commits no sins—who wants nothing—is invincible and has psychic “leverage” over everyone else, since we by default have an instinct for shame, and we are all insecure about our inevitable naughtiness. That’s what Jesus was, like Mr. Rogers with a machine gun. He was so good that he had total influence over anyone who approached him. They instantly fell in love and were enslaved by their own shame. Geez, this guy is just so darn good. What a goody two shoes, and He couldn’t even call himself good. That’s why they killed him. He was just too darn wholesome, and not even stuck up about it, and He knew who He was and people couldn’t stand it. But that’s what He wanted, since that’s what the Father wanted Him to do.

The Divine Pattern

There is a supernatural pattern to it all. Our lives are entirely predetermined and we are intended to screw up by design, to find ourselves hopelessly in need of a Redeemer. This pattern is God’s intentional design, to glorify Christ and therefore glorify God. It’s like we are a giant fractal beehive in an incomprehensibly complex fractal universe. Every song, every book, every human interaction follows this repeating pattern. My life is a script and I’m just watching it.

This is why politics goes back and forth. It’s a function of God’s design. Our minds are polarized, just as the Shema is, to create variation. All human creation and thought stems from this duality. We will always have a tick-tock between liberal and conservative. Paradoxically, when a people-centric (liberal) leader is in power, society tends to decline; when a God-centric (conservative) leader is in power, it tends to incline. This is all part of the Human Pattern that moves us forward as a collective.

Part 4: Warnings and Contradictory Advice

On Technology, Games, and Music

Don’t play those horrible video games or listen to that awful music; they are demonic. The games contain themes God doesn’t like. Absolute craftsmanship violates the second commandment; it creates an idol and gives it demonic power. I thought the games helped me, but I was wrong; going for a walk is much better. Especially avoid psytrance. It’s a demonic trick. It’s a spiritual virus that inverts values to seem progressive but ultimately leads to madness. Technology is not the answer; it’s a distraction. Screw technology, screw robots, screw computers. It’s evil mind control leading us to hell. Get off your phone and the internet unless you need it for something practical.

But also, dance games are great for rehabilitation. There’s real value for artists and athletes. And technology is good if used right. It should enable maximum liberties while shielding users from harm. God’s gifts—exercise, friendship, fun—should be enhanced by technology.

On Drugs, Alcohol, and Porn

Don’t ever, ever, ever do drugs. My spiritual path took me through cultures that validate these things, but they are absolutely evil. Psychedelics were fun, but I almost manifested hell. There are reports of people living entire alternate lives or going to hell for eternity. Marijuana creates anxiety, paranoia, and perversion. My father said no drugs, so no drugs! But he also said everything is okay in moderation. It’s confusing.

Stay off the internet porn. It twisted my mind into thinking I was playing a game of me versus my Mom. It got in my brain and made me try to escape our emotional bond, leading to disaster. It has created a plague greater than any other in history. And don’t drink alcohol or use nicotine if you can help it. I’ve struggled with them all, and they will make you a slave and distort your perception to seek the demonic. Of course, the more you need to focus, the more you seem to need all these things. At least that’s what I’ve always found about myself.

How to Live

My advice is a mess. Listen to me! Wait, listen to yourself! Listen to your parents! No, listen to God! It seems everyone was right all along. Take the middle path. Have fun, but not too much. Try your best, but don’t be foolish. Keep it reasonable.

Be conservative; it’s the safest and most correct way. Read Dave Ramsey’s books, get a modest mortgage, live beneath your means, play golf, and listen to jazz and gospel. But also… a little bit of everything is probably fine too. Don’t believe in yourself; don’t follow your passion. Obey God’s perfect law. But also… believe in yourself sometimes, maybe. It’s poison, it’s medicine, it’s energy, it’s magic. I’m crazy, everyone is crazy.

Part 5: The Only Truth

Jesus Christ is the one and only Son of God, who came to Earth in the flesh to redeem us from our sins. Christ is the only answer and the only and most important truth in this entire universe. Praise the LORD God Almighty Jesus Christ forever and ever! It’s the only important thing that ever happened. Only God is good, and we are all saved by the blood of Jesus Christ; it is only through Him that we are declared innocent. Our lives are predestined and orchestrated to demonstrate our own failures and need for such a Redeemer, all for God’s ultimate Glory. Thank you, Lord. I love you, and I am sorry.

What exactly is the Holy Spirit? Nobody seems to know for certain. Some say it’s the spirit of purity, others the voice of creative bravery. Could it have dual meanings simultaneously? Jesus says the most important commands are to love God with all your being, and to love your neighbor as yourself. But the command to love God comes first. This means liberal, people-centric values must be secondary to God’s rules. Well, either you are following the rules, or you are the one making them, but rarely both. Fortunately, even if you break every rule and teach the same, you are still only in last place, you still get in. And anyway, aren’t you supposed to not worry about your status?

Don’t be naughty or it hurts the father’s feelings. The solution for all conflict can and will never be one side “winning.” The only solution is communication and compromise until everyone is satisfied. Morality is about loving other people and not hurting others, that’s all. If you think something might be a “sin,” it probably is one, to you. If you think it’s fine and it’s not harming anyone, it’s probably fine. That’s how you know. How else would anyone?

We all screwed up, so we listen to Jesus. We obey, we heal. Everything kills you, everything leads to death, you only live once. The only thing I ever got right for sure was that Jesus is the Lord! This is the most important moment that ever happened in all existence. We had better tell some people about this!!!