Tuesday, October 13, 2009

A Foray into Sky

It was a great adventure, and lots of fun. Thanks, Forevermore!

P.S. I appreciate the axe very very much! It wasn't something I ever expected to have.

P.P.S. I'll try not to die as much next time.

Tuesday, October 06, 2009

There are ways to say things

This knowledge may be a function of age, but I'd like to think that people can pick up the skill in their youth: There is a time and place for self-promotion.

When someone is talking about something that they've undertaken and feel good about, that's usually not the right time to place your accomplishments as some sort of counterpoint. In other words, I don't recommend reframing someone's goals in light of your own success, because for the most part the other person isn't really looking for that. That's purely for your own satisfaction. It's a very ego-centric act, one that falls on either deaf ears, or exasperated ones.

For instance, if I drop a line to the linkshell stating that I'm making progress on my Lu Shangs, a response like "Yeah and in 6 months, you'll have your noob rod" or "Ebisu or GTFO" won't elicit ... whatever it was you were trying to accomplish by saying that. Were you trying to encourage me by managing my expectations? Or were you inflating yourself?

I understand that it is meant partially in jest, but at the same time... it isn't really. While you may be chuckling, what you've done is take someone's else's goal and put it against the backdrop of your ego.

I honestly don't really care how long it's going to take, and I know the Ebisu is superior. And I don't care whether you have one already or not. This has no bearing on what I was announcing.

Anyway, I seem to encounter this type of attitude constantly in MMOs. And again I'm not sure whether it's a function of age (doubtful, considering how many adults play) or the fact that the game somehow attracts people who require validation at the expense of others... a sort of meritocracy of disdain, a nerd locker room. But it should be common decency to understand that when someone is patting themselves on the back a little, that's usually not the right time to jump in and burst their bubble.

Be secure enough in your own experience to know when to encourage others. They just might look up to you for it.

Enough said. Moving on.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

When something changed

I'd been fishing for a few days since my reincarnation.

Aside from building up a few Imperial Standing points, I hadn't done much of anything else since I'd returned. I had a lot of excuses for this: not enough time, on too late, not enough money, not enough focus. A lot of those deficiencies were real, and still are, but somehow making excuses to myself seemed defeatist... in a really absurd way.

Why would I log on to convince myself of what I cannot do? What would be the purpose in that? I had a reason for playing, and I was trying to remember it.

In a sense, I'm still trying to remember it. An MMO continues to be such a strange thing for me. It definitely fills a gap in my activities, but it's one that I still can't manage to pin down or articulate.

So anyway, I fished.

I found that activity oddly more satisfying than the crafting labor afterward. Perhaps it was the simple interactivity of the fishing rod telegraphing my catch, or the sense that I was pulling pure profit out of the water. Or maybe it was the fact that it was subtly changing my attention, clarifying through idleness.

I noticed that I started pausing at sights. At statements. At people.

Something about listening to my friends talk and laugh while I gazed at the water, waiting for my next catch, made me feel like I was on vacation. It introduced something I hadn't felt in the game before, perhaps because it was obscured by my own worries and perpetual sense of fighting the clock, of imminent temporal bankruptcy.

I remembered the feeling of dozing on the beach and hearing the voices of my family over the roar of the surf, the sound of a small, intimate space briefly etched upon a gigantic landscape, something that made me feel vastly fortunate but equally insignificant.

Maybe this was why I had returned.

I realize many people delve into these worlds with the intention of attaining some sort of stature or significance however virtual or personal or simply fun, but I've realized that I dove into this particular one for almost the opposite reason.

I want to grow this character, and I want to explore. But perhaps because my personal life holds enough in the way of significant decisions and paths, or because I simply don't have the energy once I manage to enter Vana'diel, but whatever the reason: I don't care to aim for significance.

Or rather, I don't want to hold significance in the future, dangling in front of myself like a carrot on a stick. That's fundamentally disempowering and frustrating for me, specifically because of the limiting parameters that surround my play time.

I want to enjoy the game, and everything it entails as I play it, and I want to fully own the way I choose to play.

The cynical part of me thinks that this almost flies in the face of what most people consider to be an MMO player, but another part of me thinks this is simply the more honest way to go. I've come to discover it's one of the reasons why I entered this world from the very beginning.

Saturday, August 29, 2009

With FFXIV a ways off...

I'm waxing nostalgic over this game. How is everyone doing? What is the state of this game? Is the player population still healthy on Ifrit? The economy, still stable?

I'm honestly thinking of re-activating old Frohike and going on another journey.