There are days when I open Flappy Bird not to play, but to feel something familiar. That gentle tap, that anxious flutter, that tiny bird trying so hard just to stay afloat — it reminds me of myself sometimes.

It’s strange, isn’t it? A game so simple, so frustrating, can somehow speak to how we feel inside.

The Quiet Battle Behind Every Tap

There’s nothing fancy about the game. No story. No dialogue. Just you, a small bird, and gravity that never quits. Every tap is an act of resistance — a little “no” against the pull that wants to drag you down.

When life feels heavy, that rhythm becomes something more. Tap. Rise. Fall. Try again.
It’s the same pattern we all go through.

You fail. You restart. You promise yourself this time will be different. Sometimes you make it through the first few pipes. Sometimes you crash before you begin. But you keep going. Because you have to.

That’s why Flappy Bird feels almost poetic to me — it’s not about winning; it’s about enduring.

When I Couldn’t Stop Playing

There was a time when my mind was cluttered — too many thoughts, too much noise. I opened the game just to distract myself. But as I kept tapping, I noticed something: I was breathing with the bird.
Tap. Inhale. Tap. Exhale.

I stopped caring about the score. The game became a quiet rhythm that grounded me when everything else felt unstable.

It’s funny how something designed to frustrate can end up calming you when you need it most.

The Lesson Hidden in Those Green Pipes

I used to think the pipes were enemies. Now I see them differently.
They’re not obstacles — they’re markers of progress. Every pipe you pass means you’re still going. Still trying. Still fighting gravity.

And when you crash? It’s not the end. You just start over. No punishment, no shame. Just another chance.
Wouldn’t it be nice if life worked that way too?

Why I Still Come Back

Whenever I feel stuck, or small, or tired of failing, I open Flappy Bird again.
It reminds me that persistence can be quiet. That effort doesn’t always look grand. That sometimes, it’s enough just to keep tapping, one rhythm at a time.