The Hero Rises… and Smacks His Head on the Ceiling
So I’ve made the leap.
So I’ve made the leap. Cue the music. Cue the cape flapping in the wind. A month ago, in my head, I was Batman with a guitar in one hand and a Joker card in the other, striding into destiny. For about five minutes, I felt like a hero there—thinking destiny was already in my pocket.
Then the quest begins. Lol. Here we go.
Instead of slaying dragons, I’m wrestling with Unity installers. Instead of writing sweeping scores, I’m staring at a blinking cursor in Cubase that mocks me like a smug bartender. I try to record a riff and it sounds less like music and more like a dog wiping his ass on the carpet….little screech and all.
Turns out, the montage doesn’t play out the way the movies promised. No epic soundtrack. No glowing shots of a man conquering his dream in quick cuts. Just me, hunched over a PC at 3 AM, typing “C# error code fix” while my daughter snores in the next room.
“What the flying fck happened here? It was only months ago.“
And the piss and vinegar? Yeah, it evaporates fast. One minute I’m charging into battle, the next I’m staring at a tutorial guy on YouTube who looks twelve and is explaining things like he’s talking to a senile turd.
So here’s the logic: if I want to prove I can score games, if I want to prove I can produce this kind of music, then I need a portfolio. And if no one’s going to hand me clients, then I’ll use myself as the client. That’s how The One Divide is born — a project where I get to test myself, push every skill, and bleed proof onto the page.
Games. Music. Whatever it takes.
Games. Music. Whatever it takes. My own work feeding the portfolio that will land me a spot in the industry.
Only problem? This is looking ant colored (color de hormiga). Every note, every build, every line of code feels like a brick wall with fresh concrete. But there’s no turning back now.
This isn’t the march of a hero. This is an uphill piano push with no gloves and a bad back. Every inch forward costs sweat, time, and the occasional curse that rattles the neighbors.
Yet here I am. Still pushing. Still swearing at a screen. Still laughing at the absurdity of it all. Because no matter how brutal this hill is, I’m not walking back down any time soon.