That moment when you’re three fourths of the way through a meal; you’re already physically full but your psychological hunger begins to rage. And you feel as though you could eat until your stomach explodes like a dying star. No matter how many burrito bowls or strawberry streusels you shovel into your mouth, you remain unfulfilled. Something is still missing.
Then you masturbate because maybe a few dick tingles will soothe the storm of want. There’s a buildup of pleasure and then a stupefying blast of ecstatic electricity surging through your body. It begins in the deep roots of your dick alongside a trembling in your ballsack. You want to ride the wave right over the edge into everlasting bliss but you fall off right before you get there.
Now you’re coming down from that brush with sweet oblivion. The best case scenario is that you only wasted a few minutes pretending to fulfill your genetic imperative. But it’s also possible that you lost track of a solid hour wanking yourself into a delirium. You pull back the blinds and the incandescent light of the sun sears your bleary, bloodshot eyeballs. You can close your eyes to the external world but you can’t not see who you are inside.
Time moves on while you sit in a haze of weed with a bloated belly and a shriveled scrotum. You know that out there in the world, people are fighting for their lives. They’re loving and hating. Thinking and creating. Coming together to solve major problems that affect us all.
There’s so much to learn and see and do. Your experience so far has covered a vanishingly small fraction of what is possible. Your current skills and talents don’t come close to exhausting your potential. With everything you could be and everything you could do out there waiting you repeat the same behavior that leaves you drained and demoralized.
For most of human history a man like me would have been ground hamburger in a war. Now I’m free to enjoy the wide open expanse of an extraneous life.