Why Video Games Are So Addicting (And What That Says About Life)

Every great video game—especially story-driven ones—has one thing in common: a clear main objective.

• In Destiny 2, you're a Guardian fighting to protect the Darkness from overtaking the Light.

• In Minecraft, defeating the Ender Dragon is the "end" goal.

• In Fortnite, Battle Royale is all about being the last player standing.

• In Overwatch, victory means outplaying the opposing team.

• In Call of Duty: Zombies, it's surviving wave after wave until extraction.

That main quest—the driving goal—give the game meaning. It anchors the experience.

Without it, the game feels aimless. You wander. You lose focus. Eventually, you get bored.

But when there's a mission?

You have a purpose. You have something to follow. You know why you're grinding, why you're leveling up, and why you're pushing forward even when it gets tough. The game becomes exciting even addicting—because your mind keeps looping on that final reward. That end screen. That victory.

The same principle applies to real life.

When you don't have a compelling main quest—a why—life starts to feel like an endless free roam with no direction. You wake up, do stuff, go to sleep… repeat. No mission. No meaning.

But when you define your own personal "main quest", life starts to feel like a game worth playing.

This is the 18th installment in my project of publishing a mini essay every day to achieve 100 public pieces. Check out the full list here, and the previous letter here.

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