Dear Diary, today I played Absurdle again. And once again, it reminded me why I both love and hate this game.
Absurdle is basically Wordle’s chaotic cousin. The setup looks the same: you guess a five-letter word, you get feedback in colorful little squares, and eventually you’re supposed to solve it. But here’s the thing: Absurdle cheats. It doesn’t pick a word ahead of time—it changes its “secret word” on the fly to dodge your guesses until it absolutely can’t anymore. Playing it feels like arguing with someone who keeps shifting their opinion mid-debate just to make sure you never win.
So why do I keep coming back? Because, for some bizarre reason, it’s addictive. Every round feels like a duel. I type in a word, Absurdle smirks (yes, it smirks, don’t argue with me), and shrugs off my attempt. I type in another word, it dodges again. Eventually, though, I corner it, and that’s when victory feels sweeter than chocolate cake on a Monday.
What makes Absurdle so unique is that it feels alive. Most word games are neutral, but this one has personality. A mean one, sure, but a personality nonetheless. It’s almost like having a rival—someone who pushes you, frustrates you, but ultimately makes you better.
Do I hate it sometimes? Absolutely. I’ve yelled at my screen more than once. But I also recommend it wholeheartedly. Because games that make you feel this much-whether it’s rage, laughter, or triumph-are worth playing. Absurdle isn’t just a puzzle; it’s an experience.
Would I recommend it to my friends? Probably not all of them. Some would rage-quit within minutes. But for those who enjoy a fight, I’d say dive in. Just don’t blame me when you find yourself shouting at your phone at midnight.