From Novice to Ocean King: How I Turned Fishing into a Existential Game Design

I used to think fishing was just noise on the water—until I realized it was a live simulation of my own psyche. As a game designer with an ENTP brain and a C#-Unity mind, I started seeing each cast as a branching decision tree: the tide as state transitions, the fish as dynamic rewards triggered by player agency.

I grew up bilingual in LA’s coastal chaos—Spanish lullaby rhythms blending with English algorithms. My grandfather taught me to read waves like code; my father said patience is the only loop that matters. So I built ‘Ocean Budget’ rules: never bet more than your emotional bandwidth. Each session? Exactly 20 minutes. No heroics. Just presence.

The ‘Deep Duel’? That’s when the big one bites—not because of RNG, but because you chose to wait through silence while the moon reflects on kelp forests below Malibu. The ‘Coral Feast’? A timed event where multiplier bonuses emerge like bioluminescent neurons firing in real time.

I don’t chase wins—I chase flow states. When you stop treating fishing as a machine and start treating it as ritual—the net becomes sacred, and the ocean remembers your name.

Join our community: we post screenshots like art installations. You’re not here to catch fish—you’re here to become the tide.