Planet Lok -- An Indication To What I Have Become
Updated: Mar 10
The Prophecy of Lok: A Former Gamer's Unexpected Path to Solitude
One of my most cherished fictional worlds from childhood wasn't Tatooine or Hoth. It was a small, often forgotten moon called Lok, discarded away in the vast expanse of the Star Wars universe, along with it many forgettable planets. For me, however, this lonely moon, accessible only through the now-defunct "Star Wars Galaxies," became an unexpected prophecy, foreshadowing the path my life would take.
You might wonder why I, a former video game addict, dedicate an article to a seemingly insignificant world from a shut-down game. My answer is simple: Lok, through its stark desolation, whispered a quiet but profound truth about my future. A truth that realized the further I grew up.
Back then, a child glued to the screen, the concept of "philosophy" was as alien as hyperspace travel. The thought of dedicating my life to pondering life's big questions never crossed my mind. Writing, my future tool of building this article empire, was something I actively despised. Yet, every time I ventured onto Lok's barren surface, a strange feeling lurked inside of me. For there was something in that desolate planet that resonated with me greatly.
This wasn't like any other video game level. Unlike Coruscant or Kashyyyk, Lok offered no friendly faces, no thrilling blaster battles, just desolate silence and crushing solitude, filled with hostile forces of many kinds. From antagonistic pirate factions, abandoned robots and weird alien creatures who would kill you without remorse if you can't protect yourself.
It felt like a premonition, a voice whispering that my future would be carved in solitude, a metaphorical journey I would walk alone, even with others being in the background. For despite the power I would attain, I would remain, somehow, solitary.
Lok wasn't just a game world; it was a mirror reflecting a future I couldn't comprehend as a child, but felt as if it rang true. It whispered of a path less traveled, one paved with introspection and quiet contemplation, as I gather more and more people behind me. In its emptiness, I glimpsed the silhouette of the philosopher I would become, far removed from the bustling crowds of the online world. An eternal outsider in a world formed by factions.
And so, years later, as I grapple with complex ideas and seek relief in the written word, I can't help but thank Lok, the desolate moon that resonated a prophecy only I could intuitively comprehend. It may have been a forgotten corner of a forgotten game, but for me, it became a compass, guiding me towards a path of solitude and self-discovery.
For regardless the people I may encounter on my journey, and regardless of their help or opposition to my philosophical cause, I traverse the landscape of life by my lonesome. For there will never be a more honest and everlasting company than my own.
The Allure of Solitude: A Journey on Lok
Lok held a unique charm. Unlike other desolate planets with multiple spaceports, Lok had just one, placed on the northern the map. A fictional warlord with his own organization made sure everyone will come and go through this port that also serves as his stronghold. Stray too far, and returning meant either a cruel attempt at escaping the planet or a deliberate death-and-respawn near the port.
Lok can be seen as a metaphor for human society as well. Composing of several factions, like the Canyon Corsairs and the Blood Razors. And like with Lok, Earth is composed of countless factions, each with their own set of interests, working in unity mostly if not only in the name of self interest. Lok displays this and what stems from it: The fact that we are lonely no matter how much power we will hold, because whatever crew you'll be having, they are loyal to you, each according to their own motives.
And I led my own organization in that game, of real people, the Storm Alpha Squad. That paramilitary force of mine also served me a reminder I am aware of only today: Organizations are built on interest. As such, even the powerful will remain lonely in the vast expanse of this hollow world, where genuine love is rare. The relationship between power and loneliness is strange as it is complicated.
This isolation, coupled with the game's diverse and often terrifying array of enemies - from monstrous bugs to ape-like creatures - created a ominous desolation unmatched in my childhood gaming experiences. Yet, something in Lok's atmosphere, the music's melancholy, drew me in. For within it lied the resonation to the man I became.
Despite the harshness, I craved an experience of solitude, a connection to my own thoughts and the freedom to explore ideas unhindered. This desire manifested in Solitarus, a term I later coined in my book Hermitericum, born from the born from the isolation felt in Lok.
And like in Lok, the residents of real life are now divided in two: Those who leave me alone, and those who try to stand in my way. My allies are on the first category, as they should. For many people, there is a third category: Those who share your life's journey with you.
But only I fully known what I became. No one needs to know what entirely lies in my subconcious, which I visited in my meditations. I remain mysterious. And I intend to leave an impact from the shadows of my existential hermitage.
SWG's closure amplified my desire for solitude. The silence, the freedom of thought, the absence of external distractions - these became my example of true happiness, a happiness that brought tears to my eyes, back when I used to cry and be overly sensitive.
Many find this yearning for solitude puzzling. Happiness, for many, lie in the many vivid experiences the external world offers. But I, a lone Lok traveler, find my solace in the vast, quiet expanse of my own mind, where other humans bother me not with their problems and drama.
The joy I find in solitude, the intensity of the tears it used to cause, is a treasure I long to share in the form of my many articles. It shaped the core of my philosophy, Rubinshteinic Individualism, originally called Solitary Individualism.
Lok may be a forgotten moon in a forgotten game, but its desolate beauty and the solitude it offered became a pivotal point in my life's journey. And perhaps, in sharing this experience, others might find their own solace in the quiet corners of their own minds.
How to Embrace Solitude
There's a strange beauty in solitude, a quiet symphony of self-discovery often drowned out by the unforgiving, loud noises of the external world. It's a feeling I first encountered not in some grand philosophical tome, but on that forgotten piece of graphical code called Planet Lok. There were no requirement for me to be there, and yet I traveled across its barren plains, as I very slowly realized that there is a self beyond the framework of society. In these solitary moments I realized I exist beyond the thoughts of another, and as such, the thoughts of another matters little for my existence.
Within Lok's eerie hostility and neutrality, was in this very isolation that I found a peculiar solace, a yearning for the unfiltered freedom of my own thoughts. A solace never shared with another as genuinely. With no family. No followers, no apprentices. And yet, it were in these times of "Solitarus" where I felt the most authentic I can be, the most human.
Love is used as a framework for this authenticity. But I have not a need in the world to depend myself on a framework that can corrupt itself to imperialism. Imperialism how? Imperialism, by attachment. And attachment and freedom cannot grow together.
Most people wouldn't confine themselves in this isolation. But I ventured further from the comfort of the spaceport, drawn by the song of introspection. And this was an online game, designed for socializing.. But it was in that social game where I discovered the joy of self-reflection, the power of exploring the landscape within, and not only with-out.
Perhaps this feeling is rare, a hidden treasure in a world that prizes connection above all else. A world that nurtures validation and narcissism. Loneliness, the shadow of solitude, is often met with fear and avoidance. But true solitude, embraced not out of necessity but out of desire, can be a transformative force.
It's not a call for complete withdrawal, or rejection of all human interaction. Rather, it's an invitation to carve out moments of quiet contemplation, to listen to the whispers of our inner selves. In these moments, we may discover hidden strengths, unexpected joys, and a deeper appreciation for the complexities of existence.
This article might not change someone's life, just as Lok's desolate beauty may seem insignificant in the grand design of the Star Wars universe. But if it sparks a single thought, a flicker of curiosity about the value of solitude, then this article has served its purpose.
For in the quiet spaces between the noise, in the embrace of our own company, lies a hidden wellspring of self-knowledge and a unique kind of happiness. It's a treasure worth seeking, and perhaps, just like Lok, it awaits in the most unexpected corners of our own existence.
