Insatiable

We will never be satisfied. Our hunger is eternal, goalposts always shifting with any morsel of happiness we consume. There is no finale or boss level to our lives; we will never be able to sustain our victories. Even the highest highs our minds adapt to and normalize. This comforts me, that no one is ever done living. It means that we will never be bored — there will be something to complain about, something to fix. With every victory, the game starts over, and over, and over, challenges abound if we only look for excitation. The discipline to keep our brains elastic, never settling into the suburbs of neural pathways, but always pressing in new directions. Our cells now are completely different than seven years ago, our bodies just hazy boundaries of atoms loosely holding onto a stream-of-consciousness. I like that. I am not who I was yesterday, and tomorrow will be an anagram of our antecedents, with the opportunity always to change our philosophies. It's easy to think to paralysis, to complicate the meaning of life into a clean narrative. It's harder to remember to simply live, to hunger for moments that make us feel alive. To be content is to die.