Food, Sex & Purpose

I wanted Chinese. Had a hankering, you might say. And i thought of how great it would be to go have Chinese with some new friend I've made. But they are all busy. I guess it will take longer than 10 days for me to get in sync with everyone else's schedules here.

But i still craved Chinese.

So i went for Fast Chinese food At Panda Express.

I've never been to a fast food Chinese place before. Pretty cool. Like Subway. You tell them what you want and they put it in the box.

I had fried rice, orange chicken, honey walnut shrimp with crab rangoon with a side of sweet and sour sauce. It was pretty good. I watched a Netflix and ate in my recliner. It's not so bad being alone when you have plenty of options. Like options for good food that you don't have to drive an hour and a half to find. I adore eating out, because I've frankly had everything i can buy at the grocery, and I'm bored with it. I am hoping the groceries here are a little more diverse. I think it's a getting older thing. You just get bored with things. It's BTDT--Been There Done That syndrome.

My friend Veep says that she thinks it all comes down to food and sex. I'd venture to add another, and say it comes down to food and sex and purpose. Though i do believe your purpose must sometimes change.

My purpose has morphed repeatedly.
Here's an explanatory snippet from a segment of my life:

First, my purpose was to walk again, regardless of what they told me my fate was.
Then it was to work on my writing skills in my spare time, and full-time, be the best singer-songwriter i could be and always try to put on a good show.
Then it was to get over my broken heart.
Then it was to finish writing all those books i started.
Then it was to find a way to enjoy food again.
Then it was to find a lifemate.
Then it was to get laid.
Then it was to be more social.
Then it was to write and find a lifemate.
Then it was to write and get laid.
Then it was to create art to distract me from the fact that i was bored with food, and couldn't get laid.
Then it was to lose all this extra weight finally.
Then it was to find happiness.
Then it was to recover from my disc injury.
Then it was to move to Colorado.
Now, it is to write more books, create more art, record more music, be more social, get laid and find my lifemate.

The more things change, the more they stay the same. But i do see a pattern there. And it is about food (sometimes--because i love to eat out), and sex (because i always like to eat in--sorry, i could not let that one go), then it was, repeatedly, about purpose. Every single thing on that list was about purpose. Am I giving something to this world and the people in it? Is my life meaningful? Am I attractive, desirable? Am I worthy? Am i good? Boil all that down, and it is the gruel of Do I matter, or am I just disappearing?

It took me a while (too long) to figure out that I had painted myself into a corner. Now that I walked through that wet paint and traveled far enough for it to finally wear off my shoes, I'm standing here at the entrance to my new life, hoping I can finally have the things i long for, but never find.

They say that when you eat Chinese Food, you're hungry an hour later. That's my life. Momentary satisfaction, punctuated by long periods of hunger.

Oh, and that fortune cookie. Funny thing about that. That's the fortune i got a few weeks ago, too. SO the first change for the better was moving, i suppose. The second--not sure yet.

Maybe that's tomorrow. Can't be as simple as dealing with old storage....gotta be more dramatic or romantic than that.

I suspect it's not about what I'm doing, but who i run into along the way.

Let's hope that's not in the literal sense: I'm still learning to drive in big city traffic.

Food, Sex & Purpose

Immortality or Something Like It

The concept of Eternal life (aside from the usual religious variety, and that of the usual vampire tale) is one fraught with profound implications. In the novel, Steel Beach, by one of my favorite authors, John Varley, these implications are explored in a unique way. After an Earth invasion, and the escape of survivors to the Moon, humankind again thrives, though they are now living on Luna, and their environment is provided inside high tech bubbles that maintain breathable air, and when they venture to the surface outside, they have to wear special space suits.

What if modern technology could provide us with instant medical cures and corporeal repairs? What if people could live 200 or 300 years, and almost everything could be fixed? What if you could have your gender changed as easily as you can go get a spa treatment? In Steel Beach, this gender switching, elongated lifespan, an Artificial Intelligence of a "Central Computer" that monitors everything and takes care of it, even on an individual basis, along with a government that provides for the needs of all its citizens, has resulted in a wave of depression and suicidal tendencies. These people find that there is no challenge, no sense of life as something tenuous and precious. The least creative of the bunch seem to suffer most, because they run out of things to be interested in, saddled with such a long lifespan.

Still, were those glitches somehow removed, i can say i would love the idea of living, without the aging process, a life of hundreds of years. I've always felt there is never enough time to do and be and investigate all that life is. I can always find something to be interested in and am sometimes depressed by the idea that i won't have enough time in one life to explore it all. It sort of pisses me off.

In the real world I live in, people who are okay with their lives, at peace with these things that don't exist for them except in some future incarnation, also seem to be those who have vivid memories of childhood. It's as if they are more aware of all the years they've lived. But since i can recall only scant snapshots of my younger years, I wonder if there's some correlation between those who can remember their current past and those who can't. Those folks can really feel their accomplishments in a visceral way--watching children grow, seeing the results of their parenting, getting the gold watch, seeing their stocks pay off, getting a raise, having the house, the new car, the financial security, the deepening partnership with a mate...my only sense of accomplishment seems to rely on the next book I have in print, the song i write and record, the next picture i paint, sculpture i create...and without those trappings of "success" to go along with them, it's an exceedingly personal accomplishment, without a great deal of validation given by others--it would take major validation like having a mainstream publisher and contract, or having my art placed in a gallery (I've only done that once), or someone famous recording one of my songs, since i am not chasing that musical fame train anymore. Why is validation important? I suspect it is because it helps engender a sense of PURPOSE.

Common among the usual variety of people in Varley's future world, is the statement: "I can't wait for a day when i can have a vacation, sleep in, stay up late, watch movies, socialize, rest, do what i want." That's MY LIFE EVERYDAY. So i am missing that purpose they get in day to day activities... they are missing that free time to do what they want, but i am missing the purpose. The grass is always greener syndrome. Why can't just doing it for the sake of it be enough for me right now? Is it because life is so limited? Is it because i can't remember a lot of it? Or because I feel I've lost those years and will never have them back, because my body will change, and i will get older and feel the effects of aging, and not enjoy things as i used to? (I'm actually in better shape physically than i have been in the past). Where does this mortality fear come from? Why is it so hard for me to be peaceful in about the limited time I'm given?

In one of the original Twilight Zone stories, "Time Enough At Last" the author (who is, incidentally one of my relatives) writes about how the world as it was known, has pretty much ended, and there's one man left on Earth, with nothing to do but read. Finally, he can just camp out at the huge libraries and read all those books he would have never had time to read before....

Then his glasses get broken.

He can barely see without them.

So, our bodies betray us, and the Universe or God often seems to betray us, when all we want is to do what brings us joy; to just wallow in the Pursuit of Happiness. Is that too much to ask? Why do we have to trade something we don't want to trade to have it?

Immortality or Something Like It