Improbable At Best
Do you remember a while ago when I started a chapter with "this chapter is impossible to write?" No? Well, I did when I was leaving for a month's reprieve. Even though I wanted to continue after that respite, I also wanted to offer a miniature summation, some thought provoking prose to echo throughout my temporary absence and encourage readers to return once I began posting again. Yet, I ran into a brick wall, a previously unfelt inabilty to cope with the scope of some of my thoughts. And so, you were left with a last minute cop out - that weasel of a sentence. All too often someone will put out a thought or an opinion for public inspection, failing to give it the clarity it deserves. The feeling and conviction behind that thought is then lost on the readers, and misinterpretation follows. We see it on television, on the internet, and here on these forums all day, every day.
Anyway, all of this does and does not have to do with the reality of this post. This journey started with an idea I still consider a radically noble one; to make my way through EVE without the burden of ISK on my back. As I progressed through the next several months of wandering and speculating, my journey mutated. At the time I was fine with this evolution, as they appeared to be relatively minor. Now, looking back, I do not fully recognize what my journey has now become; furthermore, I feel as though I have moved on without paying the infinite toll of thought due to my original question - can I survive without ISK?
Now, I have spent what ISK I started with, but after whittling down my wallet to nothing it remains somewhere between five and ten million ISK, eternally boosted by the odd donation here or there - perfectly timed by some magic. Fresh Stabbers are ready for me whenever I lose the previous one, prepared by one generous party or another. Despite the vast degree to which I have scaled down my participation in EVE's economy, I am still irrevocably a participant no matter how I skew it. If I were a pilot of unmatched evasive skill, if I never lost a ship, or if I were willing to traverse the galaxy in a pod, perhaps then I could better avoid the shadow that ISK casts over me. Even then, I feel as though it would be an exercise in futility - the market is EVE, to a large extent. It is inescapable.
My growing discontent with this reality was exacerbated by the truth behind the suspicion that my wandering were really just a background; in the end, they have no real character - they are nothing more than a backdrop, a diversion, while I while away my fortunes. And always, I had a comfort zone; my self regulation to the ISK in my wallet did not take into account the significant assets I had in various pockets of the galaxy. While I never dipped into such reserves during my journey, they were still there - an undeniable cushion of ISK.
After I accomplished the first superficiality of my wanderings - reaching the four cardinal points of the galaxy - I reached a point I had not planned for; the end. At this point I could have halted, attempted a conclusion as to how I had fared in the role of a space gypsy, and wrapped it up - but I felt as though I must carry on. Thus, a new purpose was fabricated for the sole purpose of occupying my time - a case study of the denizens of low security. While this produced - in my opinion - some interesting insights and a truckload of social confusion-commentary, it was still just a diversion. It was at this point that I feel I lost track of the original point of the whole thing - now I'm just a wanderer-journalist with an eccentric taste in ships, which is fine in some ways and not in others.
I suppose I recognized the whole low security question as unanswerable almost immediately, but coupled it with the 140 jump trip in a sickening display of time wasting potential - all to occupy myself while I tried to unearth a style and mission captivating enough to preserve itself without constant maitenance and reformation at my hand.
Nebulous bull**** wording aside, I was - to be honest - looking for something I thought people would want to keep reading, because despite everything a writer or an artist's mind may say, an artist is not an artist unless others recognize him or her as an artist, and I feel this is especially true for writers - even more so for burgeoning ones. I do not feel as though I have found that captivating story to be written, nor do I believe it is buried here.
In essence, I like to write about EVE. I hope to continue, be that at some point in the near future or further on - but not here, not this. So, for those tenacious few who have read through all the entries, and now through this final morass to come to these last lines, I commend and thank you. I know I couldn't stand to read through my own writing.
Now, it would be fitting to finally put to rest the question I positited some months ago:
To successfully live without ISK is improbable at best.