Do Adults Still Play? How to Win With Your Cheat Code

This is The Human Player—apublication about bodies, screens, and the systems that shape both. Today: naivety, a burglarized apartment in Miami, and the cheat codes you’ve been running your whole life without knowing it.

After publishing Re: I Am Not Your Guru — Three Key Life Moments, my mind wandered to the playfulness of being young. I always call myself naive. Not as a put down, but as representation of my lack of omniscience. On the main and side quests of my life, I’m looking for knowledge that reminds me of how this life experience is truly played.

Naivety is admitting that I believe the best intentions of people when I shouldn’t. It’s a reminder that the grimey streets of life will cross your doorstep— and even your window—if you don’t keep a little bit of sensibility. Or 1% “Fuck You” to the outside world.

South Beach, Miami unpeeled the layers of onion skin around me and showed me that I’m just a mango. One nutrient-rich thick skin, and over time, under the right conditions, I’ll ripen and allow you easy access to my soft, enchanting, and intoxicating side. New York City put me in a daze for 20+ years of my life. An Amtrak ticket, and $1,500 in my pocket of hope gave me pause to clear the fog.

A year into 70-hour work-weeks, morning walks to the coast for yoga, workouts, and meditation strengthened my resolve and reinforced balance as the key to happiness. I was at peace. But I was still naive.

A 10-minute walk to the post office brought me back to an open window, $600 in cash gone, and Playstation 3 with all my games gone. Someone had been watching. A “neighbor”. I was livid. I called the police to file a report. I thought shit was sweet—the world was loving and friendly. Nope. Never. There are still some fuckers out there.

A decade later, I don’t leave windows open when I leave the house. I lock the door even if I’m walking to the backyward. I’m friendly with my neighbors. Not familiar. Unless you’re family, I won’t invite you inside my home.

I used to believe I don’t trust people. But I do.

Most people think trust is about other people. It’s not. It’s about you.

I spent years arrogantly saying I didn’t trust people—then one day on a flight from JFK to MIA it hit me. I was sitting in a metal tube at 35,000 feet, trusting engineers I’d never met, a pilot I couldn’t see, and mechanics who clocked out at 5PM. Everything you eat, drink, drive, or ride is an extension of trust. You already trust strangers with your life every single day. The problem isn’t trust—it’s proximity.

The closer someone gets, the more you see their flaws, inconsistencies and humanness. That’s when trust gets complicated. Distance makes it easier. Intimacy makes it challenging.

Here’s the reframe: if you can trust a stranger with your body on a plane, you can trust the right person with parts of your heart. You don’t give it all at once. You adjust and adapt as you get to know someone—letting trust grow or contract based on what they actually show you. That gradual process is a cheat code. Not blind faith. Not permanent suspicion. Calibrated trust that moves with the evidence.

Regardless of where you started—broken homes, immigrant households, Brooklyn streets, a parent who lied to you when you were ten—trust is non-negotiable for healthy living. Not because people deserve it automatically. Because you deserve the connections that only come when you’re willing to risk it.

Define what trust means to you. Then build your cheat code from there.

Last week I shared a laugh with a coworker. Most days, I zone out, and keep conversations minimal. But occasionally, I see a genuine smile and I return it with appreciation for stopping to think about me and offering a “hello”. I cheated.

My usual course of action, is abruptness and “leemme alone”. But my smile is a cheat code to break up the monotony. The shared laughter and quick-wittedness is the playfulness. Play is reactive and restrictive within the space you’re occupying. I find it difficult to play in professional spaces, especially with people I see often. I don’t belong in polite society. I like to place my hand in the fire, keep the flame lit, then place the bridge between us on fire. “Fuck you”

I live with another cheat code that I turn on to finagle into any and every space. Friendly. Maybe familiar if something catches me off-guard. But I unleash enough MP cast a charm spell, and move on.

I no longer live by the beach. Haven’t since 2014. From 2020-2022, Snowcone Sativa was my cheat code. Physically, I felt invincible. I could break through mental plateaus and run for miles faster than usuall. Creatively, I kept developing concepts from a void of songs, built an artist persona, and found life behind my Canon lens.

Addiction is funny because once you no longer have access to your vice, a few things can happen:

• You find a new addiction.

• You lose access to the part of yourself that thrived through it.

• Or you desperately try to recreate the vibe you used to beable to tap into.

Smoking doesn’t bring joy to my life anymore. It’s too instant and offers a false sense of empowerment that no mortal should have. It’s too easy of a cheat code. Once you master a cheat code, the game stops being fun. You’ve made yourself god. god doesn’t play.

Now I enjoy tinctures. A few drops in my morning tea, and at some random point in the afternoon, a second wind pushes me over the midday hump. I laugh a little more at the farmer’s market. I let go of doubt, and breathe more intentionally.

This morning, I woke up and spent a half hour writing this before starting my work day. Starting the day with yourself is the most consistent cheat code you’ll ever have.

Some people cheat in ways that ruin the lives of others. Those are the thieving neighbors, two-faced politicians, unjust law enforcers, drunkards who operate machinery.

Your cheat code should enhance your life, and indirectly enhance the life of others around you. So many games are strategy-defined with the stakes being saving the world. If you cheat the world wins. That should be your moral compass.

The best part about cheat codes is you already know how to show up and succeed. You just need to start hitting the buttons more frequently and accurately. Every code has a place and should be chosen based on proximity and impact. My smile is a universal cheat code. My bird feeders is how I find more peace at home. Music is how I find joy in the world.

Cold water in the mornings is how I wake my body up before my mind can argue. A long walk with no destination is how I reset when the walls close in. Cooking meals during the week is how I remind myself I love taking care of myself. Writing one sentence is how I trick myself into writing an article. And staring into the mirror after a long day is how I have honest conversations with myself.

But the game is only fun if you refuse to stay on the same level. Once you find your cheat code, increase the difficulty of the game you’re playing. Move forward, vertically, horizontally, and eventually you’ll succeed at scale diagonally. See how far you can take yourself. And discover what new codes you need to develop to win at this game of life.

Start cheating. Especially at your old age.

This is The Human Player. Bodies, screens, and the system that run both.

Posts drop every Tuesday. Start the week without someone else’s influence

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