07-17-2017, 02:05 AM
It has been said that all good things must end.
When you ponder the end of life, itself, then the end of play by mail gaming seems to draw the short straw of interest. As I grow older and older and older (still not old, technically, yet), my thoughts and my gaze shift. Not that play by mail gaming ever suffered from a shortage of distractions. Hell, distractions were the one area that PBM gaming always managed to log a net surplus.
No matter what, I always seem to manage to lose my way. Perhaps that is my true destiny, my ultimate calling - to ever remain lost, to ever personify the concept. Just when the footing seems true, I slip and fall again into the abyss.
All progress halted. All hope abandoned.
Theories have been advanced. Theories have been tested. Yet, all has been for naught - or so it seems. With all light extinguished - the light of desire, a desire to continue on, I have flailed about in what some whisper to themselves in their moments of quietest solitude as "the real world." Even still, I manage to find my way back here.
Not just to this website. not just to this forum. But, to this section, even to the very button which allows me to archive this moment of thought.
Through it all, from beneath the ashes of all that lies in ruin, one things is certain - and that is that of all things that I bring to this contest that is play by mail gaming, the one thing that I do not bear and bring forth is certainty.
One minute, everything is going fine. The next, and all momentum has collapsed. Far from a blessing to play by mail gaming, I am a curse. No doubt, even now, many are they that rise in applause of this one statement.
Just join some games, I told myself. Go on, just give it a try. Invariably, sickness followed. In days gone by, games were a reprieve from the miseries that occasional bouts with sickness would bring. They could even destroy monotony. Boredom dared not go toe to toe with PBM games, for fear it would be swiftly vanquished!
Not so, now.
Publishing a magazine becomes a chore.
Or does it?
Suspense & Decision only works, when there is decision to go long with the suspense. Publication of nothing generates no enthusiasm. It inspires nothing! Yet, what is a fellow to do? What does one do, when that man in the mirror simply won't cooperate?
And, so, now you know. I am lost in my own mirror of thought, a mirror universe where play by mail is no more. Has it ever even existed there, at all? Honestly, I'm just not sure.
Ultimately, it doesn't really matter what we've tried, what we've given a go at. It doesn't matter who has said what, who has thought what, nor even who has done what. The Rubicon materializes, anew.
Taunting me.
Daring me to cross it, once more. Whispering to me that before was only an illusion. Screaming at me that all was for naught!
So much to do. So much that needs to be done. Yet, here I sit, writing. Just jotting down thoughts as they come to me.
Saying nothing. Thinking nothing. Doing nothing.
Like I said, all good things must end.
I'm done.
I no longer care.
I don't care about what we tried, about what succeeded or what failed. I don't care what anyone wanted. I don't even care about what I wanted.
Hell, for that matter, I don't even know what I wanted.
What was I thinking? What was I hoping? What was I reaching for?
I am in a funk from which there is no escape. I should be ashamed of myself, for even polluting this forum with this sorry excuse for a posting. What a wretched excuse for a thread about play by mail gaming!
This is babble, not gaming!
For you, though, it is probably akin to a message in a bottle. You had hoped for a life pod, some sign that I escaped, and that the magazine could go on, anew. Either that or you had hoped - fervently hoped - that I would not be heard from, again.
Or something else.
So much time spent, so much effort expended.
Really?!
Surely, I didn't just say that. Surely, I didn't just post that.
It doesn't even amount to a mere drop in a bucket.
Who am I trying to kid?
When I stare in a mirror, I get no answers. The mirror that I stare the most frequently into, the mirror that I stare the deepest into, is the one located in my own mind's eye.
After all, you don't need a real mirror, just to stare into one.
Just like you don't need a real game, to be entertained by one.
Honestly, I just sit here with my face in my hands, when I ponder what to do about it all. I can't save PBM. Hell, people, I can't even save myself!
Melodrama. False crisis. Much ado about nothing!
So, I am going to step out of this pile of manure of my own creation, and I am going to go on a journey. Know, that I do sincerely appreciate the time that you have given me, the interest that you have shown, both in this website and in the magazine and in this shared interest that is our hobby of play by mail gaming.
But, the time has come to move on. The time has come for me to head down a new path, for me to take a new route. Destination? Nowhere.
Suspense & Decision is dead.
It always has been.
It was still born.
All this time, we were all simply pretending.
I miss Paper Mayhem. I still miss Flagship. I can't really say that I miss Suspense & Decision.
My thumb began twitching, when I wrote that, just now. Life remains full of irony, it seems, even at this late date, even at this late hour of the night.
By the way, did I mention that we have a solar eclipse coming up? From what little that I understand, it will probably be the best one in my lifetime that remains.
Not sure if I will participate. You might want to check it out, though. I hear that it will be quite the show.
Me? I'll be here, accomplishing nothing. Who knows? If we're lucky, maybe I can get the final issue of Suspense & Decision out the door by then. If so, then it will give you something to read, when the sun goes out.
The final issue.
If you have something that you would like to be included in this issue, then send it to me at my new e-mail address of: charlesmosteller@protonmail.com
There is no publication date. Just whenever I get around to it.
Take care!
God bless you, one and all!
When you ponder the end of life, itself, then the end of play by mail gaming seems to draw the short straw of interest. As I grow older and older and older (still not old, technically, yet), my thoughts and my gaze shift. Not that play by mail gaming ever suffered from a shortage of distractions. Hell, distractions were the one area that PBM gaming always managed to log a net surplus.
No matter what, I always seem to manage to lose my way. Perhaps that is my true destiny, my ultimate calling - to ever remain lost, to ever personify the concept. Just when the footing seems true, I slip and fall again into the abyss.
All progress halted. All hope abandoned.
Theories have been advanced. Theories have been tested. Yet, all has been for naught - or so it seems. With all light extinguished - the light of desire, a desire to continue on, I have flailed about in what some whisper to themselves in their moments of quietest solitude as "the real world." Even still, I manage to find my way back here.
Not just to this website. not just to this forum. But, to this section, even to the very button which allows me to archive this moment of thought.
Through it all, from beneath the ashes of all that lies in ruin, one things is certain - and that is that of all things that I bring to this contest that is play by mail gaming, the one thing that I do not bear and bring forth is certainty.
One minute, everything is going fine. The next, and all momentum has collapsed. Far from a blessing to play by mail gaming, I am a curse. No doubt, even now, many are they that rise in applause of this one statement.
Just join some games, I told myself. Go on, just give it a try. Invariably, sickness followed. In days gone by, games were a reprieve from the miseries that occasional bouts with sickness would bring. They could even destroy monotony. Boredom dared not go toe to toe with PBM games, for fear it would be swiftly vanquished!
Not so, now.
Publishing a magazine becomes a chore.
Or does it?
Suspense & Decision only works, when there is decision to go long with the suspense. Publication of nothing generates no enthusiasm. It inspires nothing! Yet, what is a fellow to do? What does one do, when that man in the mirror simply won't cooperate?
And, so, now you know. I am lost in my own mirror of thought, a mirror universe where play by mail is no more. Has it ever even existed there, at all? Honestly, I'm just not sure.
Ultimately, it doesn't really matter what we've tried, what we've given a go at. It doesn't matter who has said what, who has thought what, nor even who has done what. The Rubicon materializes, anew.
Taunting me.
Daring me to cross it, once more. Whispering to me that before was only an illusion. Screaming at me that all was for naught!
So much to do. So much that needs to be done. Yet, here I sit, writing. Just jotting down thoughts as they come to me.
Saying nothing. Thinking nothing. Doing nothing.
Like I said, all good things must end.
I'm done.
I no longer care.
I don't care about what we tried, about what succeeded or what failed. I don't care what anyone wanted. I don't even care about what I wanted.
Hell, for that matter, I don't even know what I wanted.
What was I thinking? What was I hoping? What was I reaching for?
I am in a funk from which there is no escape. I should be ashamed of myself, for even polluting this forum with this sorry excuse for a posting. What a wretched excuse for a thread about play by mail gaming!
This is babble, not gaming!
For you, though, it is probably akin to a message in a bottle. You had hoped for a life pod, some sign that I escaped, and that the magazine could go on, anew. Either that or you had hoped - fervently hoped - that I would not be heard from, again.
Or something else.
So much time spent, so much effort expended.
Really?!
Surely, I didn't just say that. Surely, I didn't just post that.
It doesn't even amount to a mere drop in a bucket.
Who am I trying to kid?
When I stare in a mirror, I get no answers. The mirror that I stare the most frequently into, the mirror that I stare the deepest into, is the one located in my own mind's eye.
After all, you don't need a real mirror, just to stare into one.
Just like you don't need a real game, to be entertained by one.
Honestly, I just sit here with my face in my hands, when I ponder what to do about it all. I can't save PBM. Hell, people, I can't even save myself!
Melodrama. False crisis. Much ado about nothing!
So, I am going to step out of this pile of manure of my own creation, and I am going to go on a journey. Know, that I do sincerely appreciate the time that you have given me, the interest that you have shown, both in this website and in the magazine and in this shared interest that is our hobby of play by mail gaming.
But, the time has come to move on. The time has come for me to head down a new path, for me to take a new route. Destination? Nowhere.
Suspense & Decision is dead.
It always has been.
It was still born.
All this time, we were all simply pretending.
I miss Paper Mayhem. I still miss Flagship. I can't really say that I miss Suspense & Decision.
My thumb began twitching, when I wrote that, just now. Life remains full of irony, it seems, even at this late date, even at this late hour of the night.
By the way, did I mention that we have a solar eclipse coming up? From what little that I understand, it will probably be the best one in my lifetime that remains.
Not sure if I will participate. You might want to check it out, though. I hear that it will be quite the show.
Me? I'll be here, accomplishing nothing. Who knows? If we're lucky, maybe I can get the final issue of Suspense & Decision out the door by then. If so, then it will give you something to read, when the sun goes out.
The final issue.
If you have something that you would like to be included in this issue, then send it to me at my new e-mail address of: charlesmosteller@protonmail.com
There is no publication date. Just whenever I get around to it.
Take care!
God bless you, one and all!