But then, after spending hours coccooned in my headphones, I was gripped with a sudden attack of utter existential dread. It's not like a focused depression, with a thoughtworm you can work your way through. It's more like an overwhelming sense of "there is no point, the sole ultimate purpose of all life from viruses to humans is to propell one's DNA into the next generation, and since I'm not going to do that, then why exist at all?"
These "meaning of life" conversations drive me to science, but I don't know if this is brought on by, or ameliorated by reading so many books about science. On the one hand, things like Chaos Theory are comforting, in that the tiniest event can have far-reaching consequences in the grand scheme of existence, so you don't ever know what your purpose is, but it may be something huge you have no idea that triggered.
But, as a friend pointed out, consequences are not the same as purpose.
This brings up discussion of Art, of creation, as substitute for the procreative act. "Ars longa, vita breva" and all that. But I think that's bollocks invented by men to make up for the fact that they have no wombs and do not physically bear children.
...and this morning, I logged onto ILX, a long-running internet community of which I am a member, and found that there have been some issues with server hosting and the whole thing either has to move or shut down. I've been on ILX longer than anything else in my life - longer than any job, or school, or relationship, or even band. So put that into perspective when I say that the potential Death Of ILX would affect me as seriously as the death of a loved one, the end of a relationship or being sacked from a job.
I feel bereft, I feel like crying.