Twenty-One
Since BEST FRIEND died, I’ve struggled to write. There have been other things that have gone on, other discouragers that have accumulated collectively, but her death was it – THE BIG ONE. If not the biggest one. This blog was (and is) an attempt to reignite the spark in my imagination, but also the passion to write, because all of it nowadays seems largely (if not spectacularly) meaningless. (As an aside, the most recent book I’ve had published, This [MidnightSun Publishing 2023], was actually originally written in 2016, then revised periodically, with the biggest redraft occurring at the KSP Retreat in March 2020, right before Covid crippled the world.) I’ve…
Twelve
Often when I’m sleepless, I wonder about the purpose of life. It’s not procreation. People procreate by accident. Surely a purpose would be harder to come by than that. And it’s not child rearing, because parents mess up their kids plenty. It’s impossible to raise an ideal kid, because everybody’s ideals are different. The best you can hope for is to raise a good person, somebody productive who contributes meaningfully to the world that we live in. But even if that was the case, what are we building to? Some utopia, as displayed in the old series of Star Trek? A world without issues? That doesn’t sound too bad. I…