The view from down here...

Peace is a lie, there is only passion.

So the weekend is over.  I don't know why but I feel the need to summarize a few things.

I've been playing Eve Online for around 21 months now.  In many other games, given a certain amount of dedication and industriousness, I could probably be pretty well set.

Through passion, I gain strength.

In Eve, not so.  

I've gained a few skills, but I feel at times like an insect walking at the feet of giants and trying to convince people that my sting is deadly. 

I have a long way to go, but I will have a lot of fun getting there.

Through strength, I gain power.

This weekend was my first taste of something other than "x up for fleet!".   There was a wormhole, there was a group of Russians hopelessly trying to maintain control of it in the face of superior forces. 

Through power, I gain victory.

We moved in.  We killed everything we saw.  We blew up everything we could and we took the spoils of war.

I have tasted life in the real Eve.  The last ties binding me to Empire space, whether the cushioned safety of high sec or the madness of low sec, have been severed.

Through victory, my chains are broken.

Flying a Scimitar when others are in Triage Chimeras served well to remind me how far I have to go, yet.  

I will get there and I will take pleasure in every chance for a good fight.

I am he that liveth, and was dead; and, behold, I am alive for evermore, I am a Capsuleer.

Capsuleer Club

First you have to give up. First you have to know, not fear, know that one day you are going to die.

Too true, Tyler.

I haven't been a part of Eve Online for far too long.   When last I played, I was rather new at the job I'm currently at and my stress levels were through the roof. 
I lost a ship.
I got way too angry.
I ragequit the game like a little bitch.

Now I'm back.  Back in game, back in Eve University.  They're an awesome bunch.

I lost another ship tonight.  This time, it was intentional.
I wanted to lose it.  I wanted to be podded.  I needed to get that out of my system so I found a war target and basically flew in circles around him going bababhabbhahbhhbabbab like that kid in the Porkchop Sandwiches video.  He and his mate did the right thing.  They shot my ship to pieces and then destroyed my pod with me and all of my implants lost.

 It's only after we've lost everything that we are free to do anything.

You know, I'm ok with that this time.

I lost everything.  Then I woke up in a new clone and in a roundabout way got in touch with my invited assassin and thanked him.

Life goes on.  I paid attention during my execution.  I let the sound of the shields/armor/hull failing alarms wash over me.  I let my heart race, certain in the knowledge of my impending death.  I know the sounds, I know the feel.  They are more a part of me now and the next time I'm in that situation, it won't be something unfamiliar.  I will replay that fight in my head, I will go back to that place of screeching alarms and tachycardia and looking for a celestial to bounce to.

I won't be perfect.  I will die again.  I will live again.  I will feel the excitement, but I will have a better grasp of it and will hopefully be able to keep some portion of rational thought going.

The best of times, the worst of times...

Having a new full time job is great for stuff like, you know, paying bills and such, but really a drag when it comes to game time. 

Garden is producing, and the dehydrator is running

Beets are growing surprisingly well.  This is the first year I've grown them and wow are they easy.  Already roasted some and they were nom worthy, now I'm running a few trays of sliced up beets through the dehydrator.  I'll have plenty for eating fresh, and I'm a sucker for drying stuff to use during the winter, so we'll see how this goes.

I just realized something

I've never had a French beer.
Must correct this somehow.

Nobody wanted to violence my spaceship...

At least I got to shake some of the dust off of my Blackbird.

Hello Ladies

Look at your man, now back to me, now back at your man, now back to me.

Sadly, he isn’t me, but if he stopped drinking Quafe and switched to Quafe Zero, he could fly like he’s me. Look down, back up, where are you?

You’re in a Drake with the man your man could smell like. What’s in your hand, back at me. I have it, it’s an oyster with two PLEX.

Look again, the PLEX are now +4 implants.

Anything is possible when your man drinks Quafe Zero. I’m in a Rifter.