I can't help but find 「I Am Not What Remains」 curiously familiar, as though it had once existed as an orphaned, unspeakable memory of mine… now reclaimed, unburied, distilled, and mediated through the machine’s cold, calculating pulse… and yet brimming with something… real, somewhat human, and impossibly flesh and bones...
There’s an uncanny familiarity to its merciless unraveling—a sense that this has already happened, or perhaps always was.
There’s… this inexplicable sense of recognition or nostalgia when experiencing the game.
…er, well, at least for me. After all, while these feelings are intensely resonant… they may not be universally shared.
I am left to wonder if this game, or perhaps the experience within, was already there even before it was conceived, articulated, elucidated, encoded—an elusive and pitiful fragment in the mind’s innermost corner, glitching out in the increasingly distorted, fraying awareness towards one’s delicate sense of self ...coupled with the feeble, also increasingly weakening grasp for the sense of connection towards the world outside of the agonized self.
It feels like a half-formed recollection of an excruciatingly-lived sense of utter alienation siphoned through fractured code and great confusion, rearranged by the erratic feed of a computer’s corrupted memory—the indifferent logic of a machine that cannot comprehend, only process—and the mindscape of its creator.
And this then creates a platform where the sterile rhythms of algorithmic system, of computational procedure clashes with the jumbled and unresolved nature of sentient, human memory and the self; the machine’s dispassionate processing mangled together with the profound human anguish it struggles to comprehend, keep up with, as well as wholly and harmoniously integrate into itself.
It leads to an experience that feels profoundly broken, confused, fragmented, and incomplete—yet deeply evocative—strangely truthful in its imperfect, unclean mechanics.
One feels it as some kind of a chaotic and intimate interplay between humanity’s psyche and game design.
It’s as though the game’s core is a culmination of the obscured implosions of emotional constipations from suppressed, incommunicable, unexamined flavors of human distress and obscure brands of alienations… giving rise to a palpable sense of a raw, embodied experience of derealization. The game, in this sense, then becomes some sort of a… funhouse mirror reflecting these struggles—a conduit through which these esoteric sentiments can finally be acknowledged and explored, even if they remain difficult to articulate.
It does not provide an easily gift-wrapped understanding but instead allows its players to inhabit... to sit and to breathe with those unseen, uncomfortable, inconvenient, irredeemably messy, whateverthefuck... and oftentimes ambiguous, indistinct, liminal, and vague emotional spaces... the nebulous, almost ungraspable fragments of human condition.
And the comforting familiarity of a pleasantly-disorienting nausea and the debilitating sense of overwhelm only heightens its allure, compelling one to continue despite—or perhaps because of—the palpable finality of the sense of utter disintegration and the inevitability of painful reintegration.
The vertiginous winding of horizons, the dissonance of noise, the assault of grating and garbled transmissions, disordered soliloquy, the incessant groan and moan of mechanical humming and heavy buzzing, the jagged edges of fragmented and incomprehensible text, the unrelenting barrage of menacing static and brutally pixilated remnants of a space almost forgotten—these are not flaws, i think, but inevitable truths that would appear if one’s ever-indecisive textures of consciousness were ever translated directly into data.
This experience feels canon to me, though perhaps impossible for most to truly grasp beyond the tangled mess of its demented confusion. And in that lies its brilliance—it does not coddle, it consumes.
This isn't for those who seek clarity.
It is for those who are painfully attuned to the disquieting familiarity of fragmented realities… this sense of a continuously disjointed eternal present moment… of a world breaking down and reforming and breaking down and reforming and breaking down and reforming and dissociating and reassociating and dissociating and reassociating and dissociating and reassociating around them, stuck in a lurching vacillation between nothingness and everythingohmygod.
Those who can feel the distortions in the very air... as if the machine itself is thinking, processing, delivering something visceral from the depths of their being—from the steepest folds of one’s brain, the winding curves of one’s intestines... to the raw unease of one’s painfully-felt nebulous, clumsy, graceless biopsychosocial sensations—earnestly though futilely digesting then violently puking it back raw to one’s eyeballs.
There’s… a raw physicality to it. Some kind of a testament to the game’s ability to provoke a deep, embodied reactions that transcends mere visual or auditory engagement.
It sure challenges the notion and invites a reexamination to the reductive demand that games must always provide clear narratives or polished and pristine mechanics to be effective, potent, and meaningful; rather than daring to also explore the messiness and gracelessness of experiences and the uncomfortable truth that not all sensations can all be nor are all meant to be aesthetically packaged, eloquently articulated, seamlessly delivered, perfectly understood, and then beautifully resolved.
To most, it may never make sense. For some, it was always waiting to.
Played it at 1:55, but I was very confused while playing lol, i was so in awe from the moshed up, blended graphics that i completely missed the dialogue. Loved it still!
This entity instills within me a wondrous dread, a dreadful wonder. Something more than an idea, or perhaps less. Perhaps both. And perhaps neither all at once. Something incomprehensible laid bare before a psyche that seeks to comprehend, that needs to, and so does/n't.
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imhpooijmg to sue yiuou my6yfy aeytes sare naoitott wroekingsd
banger gam
I can't help but find 「I Am Not What Remains」 curiously familiar, as though it had once existed as an orphaned, unspeakable memory of mine… now reclaimed, unburied, distilled, and mediated through the machine’s cold, calculating pulse… and yet brimming with something… real, somewhat human, and impossibly flesh and bones...
There’s an uncanny familiarity to its merciless unraveling—a sense that this has already happened, or perhaps always was.
There’s… this inexplicable sense of recognition or nostalgia when experiencing the game.
…er, well, at least for me. After all, while these feelings are intensely resonant… they may not be universally shared.
I am left to wonder if this game, or perhaps the experience within, was already there even before it was conceived, articulated, elucidated, encoded—an elusive and pitiful fragment in the mind’s innermost corner, glitching out in the increasingly distorted, fraying awareness towards one’s delicate sense of self ...coupled with the feeble, also increasingly weakening grasp for the sense of connection towards the world outside of the agonized self.
It feels like a half-formed recollection of an excruciatingly-lived sense of utter alienation siphoned through fractured code and great confusion, rearranged by the erratic feed of a computer’s corrupted memory—the indifferent logic of a machine that cannot comprehend, only process—and the mindscape of its creator.
And this then creates a platform where the sterile rhythms of algorithmic system, of computational procedure clashes with the jumbled and unresolved nature of sentient, human memory and the self; the machine’s dispassionate processing mangled together with the profound human anguish it struggles to comprehend, keep up with, as well as wholly and harmoniously integrate into itself.
It leads to an experience that feels profoundly broken, confused, fragmented, and incomplete—yet deeply evocative—strangely truthful in its imperfect, unclean mechanics.
One feels it as some kind of a chaotic and intimate interplay between humanity’s psyche and game design.
It’s as though the game’s core is a culmination of the obscured implosions of emotional constipations from suppressed, incommunicable, unexamined flavors of human distress and obscure brands of alienations… giving rise to a palpable sense of a raw, embodied experience of derealization. The game, in this sense, then becomes some sort of a… funhouse mirror reflecting these struggles—a conduit through which these esoteric sentiments can finally be acknowledged and explored, even if they remain difficult to articulate.
It does not provide an easily gift-wrapped understanding but instead allows its players to inhabit... to sit and to breathe with those unseen, uncomfortable, inconvenient, irredeemably messy, whateverthefuck... and oftentimes ambiguous, indistinct, liminal, and vague emotional spaces... the nebulous, almost ungraspable fragments of human condition.
And the comforting familiarity of a pleasantly-disorienting nausea and the debilitating sense of overwhelm only heightens its allure, compelling one to continue despite—or perhaps because of—the palpable finality of the sense of utter disintegration and the inevitability of painful reintegration.
The vertiginous winding of horizons, the dissonance of noise, the assault of grating and garbled transmissions, disordered soliloquy, the incessant groan and moan of mechanical humming and heavy buzzing, the jagged edges of fragmented and incomprehensible text, the unrelenting barrage of menacing static and brutally pixilated remnants of a space almost forgotten—these are not flaws, i think, but inevitable truths that would appear if one’s ever-indecisive textures of consciousness were ever translated directly into data.
This experience feels canon to me, though perhaps impossible for most to truly grasp beyond the tangled mess of its demented confusion. And in that lies its brilliance—it does not coddle, it consumes.
This isn't for those who seek clarity.
It is for those who are painfully attuned to the disquieting familiarity of fragmented realities… this sense of a continuously disjointed eternal present moment… of a world breaking down and reforming and breaking down and reforming and breaking down and reforming and dissociating and reassociating and dissociating and reassociating and dissociating and reassociating around them, stuck in a lurching vacillation between nothingness and everythingohmygod.
Those who can feel the distortions in the very air... as if the machine itself is thinking, processing, delivering something visceral from the depths of their being—from the steepest folds of one’s brain, the winding curves of one’s intestines... to the raw unease of one’s painfully-felt nebulous, clumsy, graceless biopsychosocial sensations—earnestly though futilely digesting then violently puking it back raw to one’s eyeballs.
There’s… a raw physicality to it. Some kind of a testament to the game’s ability to provoke a deep, embodied reactions that transcends mere visual or auditory engagement.
It sure challenges the notion and invites a reexamination to the reductive demand that games must always provide clear narratives or polished and pristine mechanics to be effective, potent, and meaningful; rather than daring to also explore the messiness and gracelessness of experiences and the uncomfortable truth that not all sensations can all be nor are all meant to be aesthetically packaged, eloquently articulated, seamlessly delivered, perfectly understood, and then beautifully resolved.
To most, it may never make sense. For some, it was always waiting to.
you are what remains...of edith finch.
This entity instills within me a wondrous dread, a dreadful wonder. Something more than an idea, or perhaps less. Perhaps both. And perhaps neither all at once. Something incomprehensible laid bare before a psyche that seeks to comprehend, that needs to, and so does/n't.
I really enjoyed this. I'll never get tired of incomprehensible moshed up text and 3d graphics
(starts at 00:31:47, itch doesn't like timestamped video links)
what did i just p-lay
OH YEAH! well I AM what remains.
By far one of my favorite games I've played on itch from the weirdness of it all
I was not expecting the game to be this fire
wtf did i just play?
this is fire im ngl
He is not what remains :0
oh dear how sad :( (SARCATICLY)
Nice taste for the no-remained.
A terrific graphic piece depicting the collapse of a PC connection!
But I couldn't help but wonder if these images might represent the actual human brain and its buggy connection to vision.
It is both very interesting and frightening to think so!
♥
Sick. 😎
i love this, also the (seemingly) real-time jpeg compression effect was pretty cool!
sick
i dont get it what is the game i didnt know what to do
(That's the point)
Wow! This was beautiful! I... want more? :D <3
TIO ESTO ESTA GUAPO!
NO ME LO ESPERABA PARA NADA
this is amazing. it feels so dreamy but poignant. I like it a lot.
This entity is today's Daily OOM (Strange Thing)!
https://www.patreon.com/posts/this-oomlich-by-85262694?utm_medium=clipboard_copy...
https://www.pinterest.com/PatrickLauser/daily-oom/
THAT WAS FUCKING COOL OMG
Could you make a zip/rar of the game to download it, bcs some of us play at 1fps if we try to play it from the browser :/
broo my God needs to stop trying to play Grand Theft Auto on his potato PC😅
A short and stimulating experience
i enjoyed it, it's mysterious, it's captivating, it's visually pleasant, and easy to play.
Only 1 problem, i got glitched in a structure and could not explore anymore, which is like 50% of the game.
nice
:D
boob
hehe nice
one of the most creative and aesthetically unique games ive ever played on this website. 10/10!!!
how the fuck do you make something like this, 5 stars
Well played. A good game,cheers.
Loved the glitchy video artifacts.
Its a cool effect.
I just want to know how did you do the cycle text coding on the menu and for the character's name as well in the gameplay