The hunger for purpose.

I’ve taken to tempering my uneasiness by following the usual capital dispensed prescription. Work eighteen hours a day and call me if you make 65”

It offers some reprieve from my gut feel and of course the manufactured importance associated with these types of diversions, called work, fuel the bullshit. An accelerant I believe they could be called. Only they douse the very essence of our life’s purpose.

Or do they? Nah just reading what I wrote there it really is a bit of a cop out. In the greater scheme of things what really transpires is that we derive at a place contrived in our minds through middle class boredom. Your life’s purpose indeed. We hope that. We look for encouragement and support from those around us. We constantly offer each other fortification in what we and they are doing. But in truth it’s an absolute waste of a life.

But what the hell else is one to do. Well I for one….

Jesus I’m starving. I don’t know about the state of food storage in your homes but ever since we started this new “Richard Branson” lifestyle there is nothing to eat in our effing house. I went just now to have a look at our pantry. What. A. fucking. Miserable. Place. that’s turned out to be. Not a Jamon , not a little fresh Rye or chunk of Pecorino in sight. It’s a disgrace really. Right about now I would kill for a ciabatta piled high with Serrano, covered with shavings of parmesan cheese…
But I look in that pantry and what do I see, lentils, Broad beans, Haricots and Chick Peas. Oh yes lets not forget the five boxes of some cardboard tasting wheat bread. Most probably manufactured by some anal retentive ex MacDonald’s employee. Bastards! No wonder vegetarians are such a colorful lot.

You see. The above proves that we are sheep. Okay sheep are more useful. However we are sheep in the “Life of Brian” sense of sheep. Not an individual amongst us and totally robotic in our sense of purpose. Cause effect and stimuli driven. I mean who said that a long life is a good life? Where is it written that we shouldn’t eat great dollops of chocolate, that I shouldn’t consume at least two Lime milkshakes a day? I’d get a lot more pleasure out of that than listening to half the crap I subject myself to from that self appointed Charles Atlas coach over at Branson’s with his high pitched school monitor voice, “Okay Vaps just four more sets to go…” cunt face that he is.

Fuck that for a game of soldiers. I’m going to change things around here. Tomorrow I’m off to the meat boutique. Stupid legumes almost cost me My purpose and if anyone sees Branson tell him that he does nothing for me.