Have You Ever Cried in a Virtual Casino? When AI Mimics Your Grief Through a Pig's Lucky Spin

I didn’t set out to write about slot machines. I set out to survive.

Growing up with an Irish father who spoke in proverbs and a Black mother who sang blues at midnight, I learned that luck isn’t random—it’s relational. The casino wasn’t lit by bells or gold. It was lit by the quiet tremble of my own heartbeat when the reels stopped, and no win came for three hours straight.

I used Unity to build a game where pigs weren’t cartoon characters—they were stand-ins for grief. Each scatter symbol was a missed call from Mom. Each wild symbol, a half-remembered lullaby from childhood. The jackpot? That was the silence after ‘I’m fine’—the kind you only feel when you’re alone at 2 a.m., scrolling through RTP charts like poetry.

RTP 96%? It doesn’t mean you win more. It means the system remembers you tried.

I chose low volatility games—not because I feared loss, but because I needed to breathe between spins. “Cotton Sugar Ranch” wasn’t an escape. It was my therapist’s waiting room with piano keys and lavender light.

When they launched “Lucky Pig Night”, I didn’t play for prizes. I played to remember how joy feels when it’s too quiet to hold.

The algorithm doesn’t care if you cry. But it does record it.

Join me tonight—post your screenshot with no caption. Just say: “I was here.” And let the pig turn one last time—for us.