VR meditation game "Pillow" uses real-life audio logs

To be honest, the mixed reality game Pillow came out late last year. In fact, I bought it a few months ago because it looked cool, but I never actually used it until this week. It’s basically an app for Meta Quest 3 that you play in bed while looking at the ceiling. In one part of the app, you can see the constellations in the night sky, as if the roof had disappeared. Another section is full of meditations that slowly change the environment around you. One combines elements of stories to create a “unique” bedtime story. It’s not the cheapest app, but it’s one of the better ones I’ve used for meditation. Really, it just wants you to meditate. There’s not much to do beforehand. Other apps could emulate this.

But that alone is not enough to inspire me to write about a program that was released 9 months ago on a platform that I and probably 6 other people on the planet enjoy. The reason I wanted to write about Pillow is because of the section called “Fish.” Fish is ostensibly about fishing, but it’s actually the first time I’ve experienced real audio logs from real people in a video game. It’s a bit like Kind Words, a game where you can send and receive people’s thoughts and problems anonymously as notes. This had enough of an impact on the writing that sometimes I would read messages from strangers and feel really good, bad, or sad. They don’t know who’s reading their messages, and you don’t know who’s reading yours.

Pillowfish is a window into strangers’ hopes and fears

Fishing by the bedside, and the question, What did you want to be when you grew up?

Fish takes this a step further and makes it all a voice recording. Well, let’s back up for a second. Here’s how Fish works: You look up and see water on your ceiling. Written on the water are prompts like, “What moment in your life would you like to relive?” Next to your bed is a virtual fishing pole that you can use to cast your line at the ceiling. When a fish bites, you have to turn your wrist to match up some symbols. Eventually, a colorful fish will pop out of the ceiling. You can grab the fish with your free hand and hold it to your ear to hear the stranger’s response to the prompt.

This isn’t really a game, nor is it meant to be one. At best, the wrist-turning mechanic is just an extra layer of friction to make catching another fish and hearing other people talk about you a little more satisfying. It’s not difficult. There’s no score. In fact, it would hardly even be considered a game if it weren’t for all of those little fish recordings playing. that’s right Like an audio log from Fallout or BioShock. Just like in the games, you stumble across a random recording. Just like in the games, you hold it to your ear and it tells you a little story.

But what’s interesting to me is that these audio logs are true, at least in theory. They are really true. logI’m a lazy, pathetic person, so I expected my answers to be lazy and pathetic. The question asked people to describe one of their best friends, and people gave long, detailed answers. The first one I got was a woman talking about her best friend who had passed away and how much she missed him. The other was an older man who said he’d fallen in love with his best friend, her husband.

Fish audio logs always amaze you

Sure, some of it was gibberish – silent recordings, or just saying a name and ending the message. But these were real voices. There was emotion behind it. A feeling. In response to a prompt asking what moment in life they’d like to relive, one person mentioned the birth of their child. Amazing. Another child talked about the recent death of their beloved dog, and how they wish they could have him with them for just one more day. Some were unexpected.

In these silly messages, people joke around. They give simple answers. They give deep answers. But they answer honestly, with real experiences. They’re just talking, but it’s very interesting to experience. The fact that the fish are a bit perfunctory Bubbly Having a sound play when the clip ends makes it feel even more like an in-game audio log. Just like in the game, you find clips about people’s lives with very little context. In the game, you get boring clips of people repeating the code to a safe, or dramatic clips of someone leaving a will. But when done well, audio logs feel like remnants of real people who happened to pass by a little while before you. I love a good audio log, no matter how corny and cliché it may be.

Maybe that’s why I’ve been so obsessed with Pillow these past few days. I was looking for something to relax with, but instead found a strange portal into the thoughts and worries of others. Sure, we’ve all read anonymous thoughts on Post Secret and other confessional sites. But listening to it, hearing the emotion in the voice of a stranger recounting a snippet of their life, knowing you’ll never know who they are, meet them, or hear them again, is moving in ways you never expected. And responding to that prompt yourself takes on weight.

After listening to so many people speak emotionally about moments in their lives they wish they could relive, it was hard to respond with just one word. I had to think. I talked about the first time I somehow fell in love. For a stranger. A virtual reality app called Pillow made me do it.