This is the biggest factor for me now, too. Not to go all old man Millennial, but humor me for a second:
I've been playing games since the NES era. The scene used to be a lot slower and while I never played every single game that came out or even owned every console, I was enough of a hobbyist that I could still follow all the major developments. These days, there's simply TOO MUCH. And I don't mean to imply that an abundance of choices is bad, just that it's an absolute firehose that no one person can follow. You have to dedicate yourself to your specific interests, your specific niches. These can well be served by indies and the whole back library of games.
Because that's the other thing, we're starting to more thoroughly recognize games as art, as a library rather than as pure content. Unless you are absolutely committed to sucking on the end of that firehose to catch all the new content at its zenith, what's really the point?
Fuck man, it's time to go back to the NES for me, pick up all those games I never beat as a kid and sink 10,000 hours into learning how to speedrun some of my favorites. There's simply no need to spend $70-80 fucking dollars on subpar, rushed, exploitative content. Fuck 'em.
Last book: The West Passage by Jared Pechaček. Delightfully surreal fantasy; highest recommendation. Almost purposefully confusing at times, it wants you to infer the bizarre structure of its world through the mysteries it presents rather than ever try to over-explain itself.
Current book: Everything Must Go, The Stories We Tell About the End of the World by Dorian Lynskey. Also strong recommend. I've been feeling rather apocalyptic lately due to the everything and some dramatic life changes I'm going through and this is having the intended effect. By taking an unflinching, academic (yet sometimes humrous) look at various eschatological stories they become demystified and help reduce the anxiety. Do we really believe we'll be the lucky generation to witness the closure of all things? Probably not. But also ... maybe?