It has been said that bitterness rots the soul. If there is truth in that, isn’t it a self-fulfilling prophecy? Think about it, if you’re bitter, and this causes the soul to rot, won’t that make you even more bitter, causing more soul rot? Vicious cycle.

It’s one of the reasons I could never buy into the concept of God. Every teacher/philosopher/holy leader has never been able to produce anything more than vague, common sense answers, fortune cookie platitudes that offer neither specific relative insight or individual direction. Religious answers tend to be “for the flock” as a whole, though the collection plate seems to find its way to each and every congregation member.

But this memoir today isn’t to rant about the various battles I’ve had with religious organizations and figureheads over the decades; no. Today’s entry is in response to a long lost letter I once had received, then lost; only to rediscover this morning by chance.

I was organizing my foot locker, given to me back in my days of basic training for the Tribal Liberation Force, making sure my old officer’s dress formals were still in good condition, though I doubt I could fit into them anymore. It had been a long time since I wore the uniform of the TLF, and I had been feeling nostalgic as of late. While sorting through the various other contents of the trunk, a thin sheet of flimsiplast fell out to the floor, to lay at my feet, beckoning my interest. With genuine curiousity, I read it.

Dear Colonel Wieler,

I’ve been a fan of your exploits for quite some time now. You are a hero to the Republic, to humanity, to me.

I think the Senate was foolish and short-sighted to reject your nomination for a seat on the council, but I think they prefer you on the frontlines where there’s more chance you won’t return to friendly space. You’re too much of an activist for their liking, my friend. You actually want to accomplish things, to produce forward thiking with tangible results. While idealistic and naive, it’s admirable, and I write this in support of your efforts.

Do not give up. Do not give in. Keep at it. I’m not the only one in this universe that believes in you. There are more of each us day taking up your cause. Do not let your bitterness consume you.

On a personal note, if I may be so familiar with you, why are you so bitter? You have everything anyone could dream of, and then some. Be happy in all that you have done. Life is too short.

With appreciation,
Minmatar Loyalist

It’s interesting what we skim over when reading, retaining only the parts that stick out to us, and usually within the last few lines of copy.

Why was I bitter? Did that question even need to be addressed? Was there ever really any doubt?

At the time, the Republic had been engaged in a war for over a decade against the Amarr Empire, failing to make any lasting headway. And instead of the Senate pooling its resources into a stronger military initiative, they actually granted asylum to some ex-communicated, brain washed Matari whom started preaching Amarrian dogma throughout the cities of Pator? There’s a good choice, Shakor.

In addition to political inadequacies and self-preservation, the larger corporation were more concerned with potential profit loss than with understanding that the fate of their businesses at all hung in the balance of whom prevailed in these military engagements. Mega corporations continued to build up their capsuleer staffing requirements, using them as flight escorts and glorified mercenary enforcers, while planets were stripped of their populations having not a single pod pilot to defend them. They were more concerned with retaining personal power than realizing that everything they knew would be stripped away from them should the Amarr be victorious in the war. The egotistical selfishness of some people stupified me. There was no better word for it.

Then there was Mynxee; a love/hate relationship of epic proportions. Sometimes I wanted to kill her. Other times I wanted to kill her after I slept with her. It was a dilemma. Don’t even get me started on the exploits of the HellFleet Alliance.

Billions of personal isk lost in ships and fittings. Thousands of lives lost in crew killed in action.

Complacent attitudes all around towards the realities of this life.

How could I not have been bitter? I saw the downward spiral of society long before it happened. In my gut, I knew what was coming next, and while I fought against it, I was but one man.

It has been said that change can begin with one man. Looking back over recent history, I wish that had been true.

I’ve lost everyone I ever cared for. I’ve outlived everyone that ever mattered to me.

The bitterness I knew then is nothing compared to the bitterness I know now.

And yet it is that same anger that fuels my passion. It is part of what defines who I am, what keeps me moving forward each and every day.

Why was I bitter? Why am I still?

Because the universe needs more people that care, and really there can be no bitterness if one didn’t care a great deal.