There was this feeling again, urging him to get up to light a cigarette and drink a glass of fine amarrian wine or two. It was stronger than usual, and he knew that this was one of the times where only getting drunk just won't be enough. He looked back at the resting place, studying the outlines of the young woman. "Damn, that girl really knew how to push all the right buttons." he thought. The room was illuminated in blue; light reflected from the oceanic planet the station was orbiting. It made the women look far away, made him feel alone and cold.
He turned around. On the table in front of him he could still find a considerable variety of the boosters they consumed together a couple of hours ago. "Consume... that's what being a gallentean is about, isn't it?" he thought to himself. But what were the alternatives? The Caldari and Amarr relied on others to think for them, be it a god or an CEO. Even the Minmatar with their collective minded tribe system weren't any better. To him they seemed like children, incapable of making their own decisions. But at the same time he did envy them, because their lifestyle kept them from asking the questions that caused him to lie awake at night. "What reason to live when there is no reason, when there is no one to live for but yourself?"
Showing that one was human after all was despised among capsuleers. It was viewed as a sign of weakness. Still, he felt that it was the only thing that kept him from falling into insanity. He looked down on an orange vial of mindflood. Inhaling just a little bit would send him flying for a while, away from what haunted him. But he knew, eventually he would land again. More often than not crash landing even, leaving him more despaired than before. Maybe this time he should face his daemons, go through the thought process. Sure, it would be painful, but at least it wouldn't be boring. "Be it punishing criminals for money or fighting wars over territory, everything gets tiresome after a while. All the excitement fades. Even love doesn't last forever. A fact you have to deal with sooner or later after you become immortal." he thought.
Tiresome... he often felt tired, like there was nothing left that kept him going. But how could it even have come so far? Why did he move himself into such a corner where no escape seems to exist? He has always fulfilled, even exceeded the expectations of others. That was what enabled him to become an immortal in the first place. But he didn't fell into illusions. Mortals may have seem insignificant to him, but in return he appeared insignificant to plenty of others. There was always another step on the ladder, be it the Jove or the simple fact that their existence in New Eden was just the result of an small colonization attempt by a species called humans.
Maybe the answer was that, by becoming a capsuleer he got too detached from everything, so that there was nothing left to care about anymore. He turned his head over to his sleeping guest. "Pushing the right buttons... Ya, she does her job like a mechanic does his, professional and precise... and with routine."
Shaking his head he went to the bathroom. Some water in his face would hopefully help him to get rid of those dark thoughts. "Cold water brought up from the planet that illuminates my quarter in cold blue, how fitting." he thought when he looked up and saw himself in the mirror. All the time he recognized a pair of eyes as beeing tired and lifeless, thinking of himself as something unique and precious, he was wrong. He looked at his image and finally noticed that his eyes looked just like theirs. He slowly realized that all the women, the money and his "friends" were merely distractions, attempts to fill what he saw at this moment in himself:
He saw the void.