My Hunger
New York-
I am writing this missive from Tri-Insula, the city state that never was but lives and thrives on the edge of the continent. Strange twists of fate and circumstance have left me marooned on Long Island in a place called Bushwick in Brooklyn, surrounded by millions who share my genus and species. Relying on sheer instinct and the will to survive, I hope to live and thrive here for a while, before casting my lot once more upon the waters. But thriving is a dream that for the time being is trumped by a preoccupation with the three basic necessities: shelter, clothing and food. But I do not see these goals as separate, for what better indicator do we have in regards to our well-being than the quality of these three material needs?
Hyperbole aside, I realize that my situation is far better then a staggering proportion of the rest of the world. But at age twenty-seven the pressure is on to figure out the question, "What do you really want out of life?" I am not prepared to answer this, but I can tell you what I really want right now. I want a cold Guinness and a medium rare buffalo burger covered in blue cheese and a side of fries. There are many kinds of hunger and most can be satisfied to varying degrees. Sexual hunger for example can be satiated in many ways from a night of passion spent with a lover to a quick jerk-off session in the morning before work.
For a person with unlimited resources, New York is the perfect city for experiencing sublime satisfaction. Luxury has no limit here. The opulent meals that other people are eating in this town make my head spin and my stomach growl. Not having unlimited resources, I realize that I will have to be very cunning to eat the way I want to. I'll have to do a lot of cooking, and a lot of searching to develop an eating plan that won't put me under, financially or spiritually. This is a record of that will to eat (and drink) well.
I am writing this missive from Tri-Insula, the city state that never was but lives and thrives on the edge of the continent. Strange twists of fate and circumstance have left me marooned on Long Island in a place called Bushwick in Brooklyn, surrounded by millions who share my genus and species. Relying on sheer instinct and the will to survive, I hope to live and thrive here for a while, before casting my lot once more upon the waters. But thriving is a dream that for the time being is trumped by a preoccupation with the three basic necessities: shelter, clothing and food. But I do not see these goals as separate, for what better indicator do we have in regards to our well-being than the quality of these three material needs?
Hyperbole aside, I realize that my situation is far better then a staggering proportion of the rest of the world. But at age twenty-seven the pressure is on to figure out the question, "What do you really want out of life?" I am not prepared to answer this, but I can tell you what I really want right now. I want a cold Guinness and a medium rare buffalo burger covered in blue cheese and a side of fries. There are many kinds of hunger and most can be satisfied to varying degrees. Sexual hunger for example can be satiated in many ways from a night of passion spent with a lover to a quick jerk-off session in the morning before work.
For a person with unlimited resources, New York is the perfect city for experiencing sublime satisfaction. Luxury has no limit here. The opulent meals that other people are eating in this town make my head spin and my stomach growl. Not having unlimited resources, I realize that I will have to be very cunning to eat the way I want to. I'll have to do a lot of cooking, and a lot of searching to develop an eating plan that won't put me under, financially or spiritually. This is a record of that will to eat (and drink) well.
posted by Junior Skeen at 6:06 PM
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