My biggest problem these days is: My life has no purpose. When I was a younger man, my life had three main purposes. 1.) Create brilliant art, 2.) attain spiritual enlightenment, and 3.) get laid (and not necessarily in that order).
But nowadays I’ve pretty much given up on all three . . . I guess I need to come up with a fourth purpose.
Hmmm . . . .
Some people claim there is no ultimate, cosmic purpose to existence. And if there is, I’ve never quite been able to pin it down. As far as I can tell, life is like a really weird dream, a mind-boggling movie, a cosmic drama of some sort. That the Universe seems to be perpetuating in all these different forms, just for the sheer kick of it.
Some people claim we’ll never really figure out the purpose of life. So it’s futile to even think about it. Which may be true. But it’s an itch I can never resist scratching at anyways.
I’m not even sure what the purpose of this blog was. I guess to try and entertain and amuse myself. That’s a start, I guess.