The Meaning of Life, An Analysis

I have a lot of fun on this blog, crafting fiction; telling personal anecdotes; writing editorial think-pieces and analyzing stories. But, I want to offer people more than just that on this blog, so what about answering one of life's supposedly most difficult questions? Personally, I don't see why it's so troublesome, but people like to overcomplicate questions when they think it's "profound".

What is the Meaning of Life?

And no, this isn't a joke, I'm going to answer it. But, you see, the reason this question is so difficult to answer is because the question is vague. I mean, we've all heard that joke-response: "If you want to know the meaning of life, look it up in a dictionary!". Haha, yes, very funny... and I will offer that answer as well, but the reason people can give this answer to the question is because "meaning" is an ambiguous term. The answer to that question depends entirely upon the context of what you mean when you say 'meaning'.
When people say "what is life's meaning" they could be referring to life's worth, origin, purpose, or in fact definition. But, if you know the context of the question, then the answer is pretty easy. In fact, I answered this over 11 years ago now, I actually covered this in a note on my computer, and that's where some of the content of this blog post comes from (although, I couldn't help but update some of the information to reflect my greater education). So, today, I will answer every single possible interpretation of the question "what is the meaning of life" starting with...

What is the Definition of 'Life'?
Well, if you're curious. Luckily, the Word of the Day is: 'LIFE'

Life /luyf/ n. 1. The condition that distinguishes organisms from inorganic objects and dead organisms, being manifested by growth through metabolism, reproduction, and the power of adaptation to environment through changes originating internally. 2. The sum of the distinguishing phenomena of organisms, especially metabolism, growth, reproduction, and adaptation to environment. 3. The animate existence or period of animate existence of an individual: to risk one's life; a short life and a merry one. 4. A corresponding state, existence, or principle of existence conceived of as belonging to the soul: Eternal life. 5. The general or universal condition of human existence: Too bad, but life is like that. 6. Any specified period of animate existence: A man in middle life. 7. The period of existence, activity, or effectiveness of something inanimate, as a machine, lease, or play: The life of the car may be ten years. 8. A living being, especially a human being: Several lives were lost. 9. Living things collectively: the hope of discovering life on other planets; insect life. 10. A particular aspect of existence: He enjoys an active physical life. 11. The course of existence or sum of experiences and actions that constitute a person's existence: His business has been his entire life. 12. A biography: a newly published life of Willa Cather. 13. Animation; liveliness; spirit: a speech full of life. 14. Resilience; elasticity. 15. The force that makes or keeps something alive; the vivifying or quickening principle: The life of the treaty has been an increase of mutual understanding and respect. 16. A mode or manner of existence, as in the world of affairs or society: So far her business life has not overlapped her social life. 17. The period or extent of authority, popularity, approval, etc.: the life of the committee; the life of a bestseller. 18. A prison sentence covering the remaining portion of the offender's animate existence: The judge gave him life. 19. Anything or anyone considered to be as precious as life: She was his life. 20. A person or thing that enlivens, cheers, or brightens a gathering or group: the life of the party. 21. Effervescence or sparkle, as of wines. 22. Pungency or strong, sharp flavor, as of substances when fresh or in good condition. 23. Nature or any of the forms of nature as the model or subject of a work of art: drawn from life. ♦adj. 24. For or lasting a lifetime; lifelong: a life membership in a club; life imprisonment. 25. Of or relating to animate existence: the life force; life functions. 26. Working from nature or using a living model: a life drawing; a life class in oil painting.

That's one possible interpretation of the question, but it's not what you meant, is it? See, people asking this question tend to mean something more spiritually or cosmically significant. But, now that we know what life's definition is, it's meaning can refer to its , origins, nature, significance, value, or purpose. So, let's have a look at some of the more existentially pertinent questions regarding the meaning of life . . .

Why does Life, the Universe & Everything Exist at All?
This is a fascinating question, most commonly written as "why is there something, rather than nothing?" and whilst we may think that the cause or circumstance of how something can exist may be cosmically significant, as Lawrence Krauss has pointed out, this is is actually a question for physics, not philosophy. This theory takes into account the expansion of the universe, dark matter, spatial geometry and Einsteinian equations . . . so, I have to simplify it. If you want a more educated explanation, check out Why There is Something Rather Than Nothing by Lawrence M. Krauss. But, for the sake of this blog...
There is "Something" because Nothing is incredibly unstable. When you remove all matter from space, it isn't weightless, in fact empty space accounts for around 70% of the weight of the universe. This is because on the subatomic scale, Empty Space is full of virtual particles which appear, exist for a miniscule amount of time and disappear, and in large enough volumes of space, gravity can act upon this energy, resulting in these energies coalescing to create matter, such as in the big bang.
Of course, this answer has some interesting questions, but I'm not here to explain theoretical physics, I have several more iterations of an existential question to answer!

What is the Origin of Life?
Well, lo and behold, once again, we no longer need philosophy, but science. I thought that, perhaps, I could at least switch to biology. However, biology is the study of life and prior to life biology is irrelevant, just like how prior to to the invention of language, spelling is irrelevant. Technically, the field of science we need to look at is chemistry. Because, that's all life really is, complex carbon-based chemistry.
So, what is the origin? 38 Billion Years Ago, we have evidence that Life began, and what evidence we have suggests that it all began with RNA, which is a kind of polymeric molecule that encodes genetic information on a single strand (as opposed to DNA's double-helix), Just like DNA, RNA can store and replicate genetic information, but it is also a molecule which can arise through simple chemical reaction with materials which we know to have been common on the prebiotic Earth. Because RNA is capable of replicating through a catalytic reaction using ribosomes (or perhaps an intermediary molecule), once you bring replicating genes into the picture, then you have a kind of chemical evolution. Molecules can get larger or smaller and change over time and natural selection comes into play. Molecules which reproduced using abundant elements were capable of reproducing more. In fact, there's evidence to show that this would lead to the development of cells, as molecules with some kind of protective layer would have an advantage over more vulnerable molecules, and in an aqueous environment, molecules can naturally coalesce into a lipid bubble, a kind of oily substance that molecules can stick to to create an outer wall for a cell. These lipid bubbles over time and further replication can evolve into a cell membrane which would then protect the RNA within from the competing RNA molecules that are consuming them.
Now, I freely admit that I don't know at which point you would call that "life" however, nature doesn't care, because once you have these cells, then they can continue to evolve into multicellular organisms, which can become sentient, then sapient, then . . . well, us. It takes billions of years, but it all started with a chemical reaction.

What is the Nature of Life?
By nature, life is ordered chaos. Life is the randomest of random, spreading out with high extremes and low extremes, from having no legs to having fifteen; being colourful and glowing to almost totally transparent; from the size of a hillock to the size of an angel dancing on the head of a pin. Life is completely wild and untamed and crazy . . . but, there's some order to it.
Because, if things becomes too big, they will collapse under their own weight, things too small won't have the necessary space to grow a brain; if something is too aggressive, it will either starve itself or kill itself off, but if something is too passive, it will be eaten alive. The nature of life is kept in check by the nature of . . . well, nature. Natural selection is the force by which life is kept in balance and allowed to truly evolve. It is the great equalizer.
But, this doesn't apply just to biology. In art and culture, we create anything and everything, but the forces of the zeitgeist decides what is appreciated or depreciated as the case may be. Ideas are shared, discussed, adapted or rejected based on critical thinking or subjective approval. Even in science, you can hypothesize any claims, but once it is tested the results of that testing determines whether a claim is accepted or rejected.
That's what all life boils down to, ultimately - absolute chaos.

What is the Significance of Life?
Finally, we approach, not science, but philosophy. In response to this, I think it was best said, in The Myth of Sisyphus by Albert Camus (apparently that's pronounced 'kahm-oo', not 'kam-iss'):
"There is but one truly serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide. Judging whether life is or is not worth living amounts to answering the fundamental question of philosophy. All the rest— whether or not the world has three dimensions, whether the mind has nine or twelve categories—comes afterwards."
That's quite the statement, and I feel that it's apt. After all, what is being discussed here is whether or not life is worth living, and ultimately, if it isn't, then death is the only logical solution. Now, if you personally are suicidal - please, seek help, there are some great mental health hotlines available internationally.
For, you see, life is significant because we experience it. But, more importantly, we give the universe significance.
I'm not being grandiose, far from it, rather what I'm saying is, significance is a quality that is inherently subjective. A rock cannot tell you how significant something is, because a rock isn't a thinking subject. You can't "measure" significance, you can't "weigh" it or put it under a microscope. That's because quantities, things you can measure, are objective, undeniable, unchanging. But, qualities such as significance or worth, can vary from person to person (or, subject to subject), it depends on their perspective. In a sense, significance doesn't "exist" except in your mind. So, if you remove that mind, where does the significance go?
Well, it disappears. Without Life, significance isn't possible, because there would be no one who could discover what they consider to be significant. Even if no one was alive to see it, a beach two kilometres long would still be two kilometres, because that's objective. But, if no one were alive, then no one could determine the beauty, serenity or significance of a beach, because the universe itself doesn't care.

What is Valuable in Life?
Okay, now this is just foolish. What is valuable to you? What is valuable to your neighbour? What is valuable to anyone? It is all different. Just like significance, value is subjective. This is the one which mostly rolls down to opinion. Value in Life is up to you. What is valuable in life to me would have to be truth, love, freedom and happiness, but people can, and most definitely will, disagree, so there is no wrong answer to this question, just what you believe.

What is the purpose of, or in, (one's) life?
The purpose 'of' your life? Well, that's simple . . . there isn't one. Scroll up, I went through a simple explanation of abiogenesis above. So, we weren't created "for a reason", since chemicals don't have agendas . . . we were created "by a natural, chemical reaction". In a sense, I guess that technically makes me a nihilist, I don't think life has an inherent purpose.
But, that doesn't mean that I think life can have an inherit purpose. Which is to say, although there's no objective purpose, that doesn't mean you can't have a subjective one.
So, the purpose 'in' your life? Well, that depends entirely on what you find valuable in life. If you find family and community valuable, then your purpose in life may be to have a family of your own and become a part of your community. If you find money and success to be valuable, then your purpose in life may be to earn money through becoming successful. Personally, as I said, I find truth, love, freedom and happiness to be of value. So, I consider my purpose to be searching for and teaching the truth, finding and sharing love, promoting and securing freedom for myself and others, and being happy (through writing, since that makes me happy).


Anyway, that's my answer . . . or, I guess, answers to the ultimate question of Life, the Universe and Everything. I can see why people prefer the answer 'Forty-Two', it requires less knowledge of physics, biology, philosophy and language. Although, very few people seem to get the joke that forty-two is literally "The Wrong Answer to a Meaningless Question". And, that's kind of the point isn't it? I honestly don't think the answer matters that much, that's how I came up with these answers eleven years ago. I didn't bother putting in the research, I usually just said "ask a scientist", but, at the end of the day, the meaning to life is either something complicated, fascinating, but ultimately useless for most people or, "Well, it depends, what do you think?"

So Very Close

Paige’s suitcase was packed and sitting beside the balcony door. Her passport sat on top, with her cell phone. She was sitting beside her computer, plugged into her virtual console. The printer on the other side of the room started blinking, then began filling the output tray. A printed ticket with travel time, destination and cost; On top of that slid a printed map & on top of that, a typed out note. It read:

Dear Mom & Dad,
Stay calm, I’m okay, I haven’t run away. I’ve
gone to see Mohamed. He’s in the hospital
because he was shot. I need to go see him.
Don’t worry, I’ll be safe. I’m taking the drone
with me Please whatever you do, don’t panic.
From Paige

Disconnecting herself from the interface, Paige ran over and grabbed the pages, then the bag and everything atop it. She extended the handle, then wheeled the bag behind her as she headed to the kitchen. Finding a stray magnet, she posted the note on the front of the fridge.
Stuffing the other pages in her jeans pockets, she headed over to the white, squat quadrocopter; a flattened cube with lots of slots and components, and round, shiny, metal edges sitting on the end of the bench on its charger.
  “Hoverfly, wake up,” she said. Two little blue eyes on the front of the Rusties™ Hoverfly switched on and glanced around. The propellers started up, whirring softly, and the drone lifted off its charging station and hovered in place.
  “Hoverfly, I need you to chaperone me,” said Paige. The drone tilted forward, as though nodding, a little green light beeped and the drone flew up and hovered a few feet behind her shoulder. Ever since the legalization for automated drones, they had become very popular since they were relatively cheap, especially within the film industry and delivery services; but for families with latchkey kids, it brought a whole new meaning to the term ‘helicopter parent’. Paige headed for the door, with the drone following behind keeping her in its sights. Paige grabbed her vest from the coatrack by the door and headed outside.

From her apartment, she went downstairs, across the street and started heading towards the Long Beach seaport. It wasn’t too far, but it felt like miles as thoughts kept spilling through her head. What if he’s seriously hurt? Will this be the first and last time I see him? Or, what if he’s fine? I’ll get in so much trouble spending my savings if I’m just worrying over nothing. I hope Mom and Dad don’t freak out when they see I’m missing. They can track me on the Hoverfly, so they’ll see I’m okay . . . I am going to be in so much trouble. It’s weird though, I don’t care. I usually care, but it’s not like I have a choice. Moh needs me, and I can’t leave him alone at a time like this.
Paige headed for the seaport and saw several excited people with cameras and bags clustered on the concrete docks around cafes, spilling orange light through the blue dawn, or taking photos of the set of aqualiners that lined the shore; each one looked like a mix between a jet ski and Concorde. Made by Rolls Royce®, the latest update in seaborne travelling was the speed-cruise ship, a jet-boat the size of a cruise liner which was fast enough to hydroplane. It still isn’t as fast as a Boeing 747, but what it lacked in speed it made up for in luxury. Paige wasn’t looking for luxury, though. Due to the war in Africa, Somalia was a no-fly zone, the only ways to get there internationally was to fly to Europe and drive down, or go by sea.
Although her worry made her feel sick to her stomach, Paige was tired and hungry and the liner wouldn’t leave for another 15 minutes. So, she bought a small coffee and a ham ‘n’ cheese croissant from the cafe and stood by the concrete pillars and chains separating the people on the dock from the water’s edge. She watched and waited, her tears stifled. She wasn’t scared anymore, because she had a goal. She was going to see her Mohamed, and she was going to kiss him. It was the promise she had made to herself, and she intended to keep it.

When she boarded the boat, it was surprisingly easy. She thought that the people at reception would be suspicious of a sixteen year old travelling alone. But thanks to the chaperone drone, everyone let her straight through, barely batting an eye. She headed on-board the aqualiner, named Silver Goddess, and headed up the stairs to the flush deck, and headed to the aft theatre. She was one of the first on-board, so she sat in a velvet seat near the back of the room.
  “Hoverfly, I need to put you away,” Paige said to the drone, and she held out a hand. The drone blinked its blue eyes, then flew to her hand. The helicopter blades spun down, then the extended propeller arms folded in and collapsed within the body of the drone, leaving just a little white box in her hand, about the size of a whitebread sandwich. “I’ll be okay, don’t worry. I just don’t want you to fly into a wall from the momentum.”
The drone beeped, then went on standby, She tucked the drone into her bag, then stowed the bag under her seat.
The ship was boarded efficiently, and soon the entire group of passengers was aboard and people filled the theatre, chatting excitedly amongst themselves. The ship’s MC stood on the stage and introduced himself, giving the safety demonstration, but Paige was uninterested. She’d been aboard an aqualiner before, so she merely did up her seatbelt and waited. She felt the ship begin to move as the MC gave his presentation. After 20 minutes, the audience applauded and he left the stage to sit down and do up his seatbelt as well. Everyone was strapped in and waited. There was an announcement from the captain over the PA system, he gave a brief weather report, wished everyone a safe trip and warned everyone that they were about to accelerate and that they should be seated with a belt on.
Then, after a few seconds, Paige felt the jolt of the ship’s jet engines, then severe turbulence of the whole boat getting up to speed. It lasted for two minutes before the boat successfully managed to aquaplane and everything smoothed out once more. The captain announced that they could remove their seatbelts, and wished them a good day. Paige merely headed straight for the lido deck. The top deck was surrounded by a bar, a stage and several deck chairs as well as a pool in the middle. Because of the speed of the ship, the top deck was surrounded by a sleek, glass dome to protect from wind shear, but the view was beautiful nonetheless. The ocean whipping past like rolling, blue fields and the seaport behind them slipping into the horizon. It was so dark in the early morning, and although it was peaceful and beautiful, all it did was remind Paige of how far away her boyfriend was. It was early afternoon in Somalia, and she probably wouldn’t arrive for a whole day. She hoped that Mohamed would be okay. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a piece of paper. It was covered in scribbles and crossed out words, but it had two lines of poetry which weren’t scribbled out, written in Somali. She had written it for Mohamed, and last time they spoke, she wanted to read it to him. He loved her so much; he had put most of his effort into speaking English, just to speak with her. At the very least, she wanted to return the favour by trying to learn some Somali:
  Labada Waxaan aad u fog, oo weli laga dareemayo si dhow;
  Bishii riyadeeyda, adduunka inagu dhexeeya kuma jiro
Even if it was a terrible translation, she still wanted to read it to him. The last time they spoke, he said he wanted to read it, but then he’d had to go to the hospital. She put the poem back in her pocket and went to lay down on one of the deck chairs by the pool.
She opened her bag and took out the Hoverfly drone once more.
  “Wake up, Hoverfly,” she said, holding it out in her hand. The drone extended its arms once more and, whirring softly, flew up in the air to keep an eye on her. Then Paige laid back, and looked up at the sky, wondering whether or not Moh would be alright when she finally found him. But it was so late, she’d been up all night playing a v-game with her friends, she hadn’t slept. Then this had happened, she hadn’t been able to sleep, but now she felt so tired. Her eyes started to close . . .

Paige opened her eyes to the sound of her ringing phone. She rubbed her eyes, and felt her face, stinging red from the heat of the sun. She was sweaty from her jacket and threw it off herself, then rummaged through it before she found the phone. She read the screen: ✆ HOME
Paige hesitated. It was her parents. She didn’t want to answer the phone, unsure what they were going to say, she might be in trouble. But, she’d probably be in worse trouble if she didn’t answer the phone. She tapped “answer”.
  “Hello?” she said.
  “Paige?” said her father. “Paige, where are you right now?”
  “I’m on a cruise liner,” she replied, rubbing her eyes, “did you read the note I left?”
  “We read it, what does this mean? You’re headed for Africa?”
  “Yes, I’m heading to Somalia. I’ll be back soon enough, I promise.”
Her Dad didn’t respond for a moment, but she heard a crackle in the speaker as he sighed.
  “Paige, we want you to come home. Do you have any idea how dangerous it is in Africa?” asked her Dad.
  “I’ve got Hoverfly with me,” I said. “And it’s not like I can turn the liner around. I’ll be at the port in less than a day, and the return trip isn’t for two days. I’ll go to the hospital to see him in that time.”
There was another pause. Then she heard her mother’s voice.
  “What were you thinking, Paige? You leave in the middle of the night; you take a suitcase and run off to a warzone?! how can we even pay for this?”
  “I used my savings, but I can make it back, I promise. Mom, I’m sorry, but I have to go. I have to make sure Mohamed is okay. I’ll be back in a few days, I promise. I love you.”
Paige hung up the phone. She felt ashamed, but trapped. She didn’t feel like she had any other choice, she had to go, she had to find him and make sure he was okay. She stared at her phone, anxiously, but her parents didn’t call back. Perhaps they knew they couldn’t talk her out of it, or they knew it was pointless, since she couldn’t turn the boat around, or perhaps she’d convinced them, but that was unlikely.

Paige spent the rest of the cruise wandering around the ship, taking lots of photos on her phone. She even managed to watch some of the theatre shows and observed some of the on-board activities; as she got closer and closer to Mohamed, the tight knot in her stomach felt like it was beginning to loosen and it felt okay to enjoy herself. No matter what, things would be better when she could finally see him, and hear his voice. And she looked forward to telling him what it was like on an aqualiner and showing him all of her photos, since he’d never been on one before. On the night before their arrival, there was a party on the lido deck. Paige didn’t want to dance, but she had a mocktail and sat by the pool, with Hoverfly nearby, listening to the music. Some of the young boys asked her to dance, and she couldn’t help but smile when she refused, saying that she already had a boyfriend.
After the party, Paige had trouble sleeping, she was too excited, so she walked around the promenade deck and looked at the night sky. It was like an infinite black, stretching onto the horizon, as though ship were speeding through shadow, but above her the stars shone brighter than she’d ever seen from her apartment window. She watched the water flying past, and couldn’t wait to see Mohamed’s homeland.

†

Mohamed woke up feeling a soft ache in his side. Although dulled by anaesthetic, he could still feel a warm pain through the numbness. He could hear a soft buzzing sound. He opened his eyes, and when he saw the white ceiling, he quickly remembered that he was in the hospital. Taking a deep breath, he stretched his back and rolled onto his side to get more comfortable, but then he saw her. She was sitting at his bedside in a plastic chair. She smiled when he looked at her, and it took him a moment to recognize her. So used to her avatar with the pink and purple hair and the cherryblossom dress, he was surprised to see her beautiful red hair, and wearing jeans with a light blue, long-sleeved shirt.
  “Jeclahay?” he said.
  “Mohamed,” she said, scooting her chair closer. “Hey, it’s good to see you’re awake.”
  “Come here,” he said, and he coaxed her forward with a gesture of his hand. She leant down and he raised a hand, he touched her cheek. It was colder than he expected, but soft, smooth and most importantly real. “What are you doing?”
  “I had to see you,” she said. “I didn’t know what had happened to you. And when you said goodbye. When you left for the hospital, I realized just how precious our time is, and just how much we would miss out on if one of us were lost. So, no matter what happened with you, I decided to come here, and kiss you. To make sure that we wouldn’t miss out.”
  “Then, please,” said Mohamed, “Don’t wait any longer.”
Paige bent down and pressed her lips to his. Mohamed ran his fingers through her fiery hair as he finally kissed her for the first time.
When they finally parted, there were tears in Mohamed’s eyes.
  “Thank you,” he said. “I love you, Jeclahay.”
  “I love you too, pumpkin,” she said. And she took his hand to hold it in hers.
  “Did they tell you, though?” he said.
  “Hmm? Tell me what?”
  “I’m fine,” he said. He wriggled back to sit up on his pillow, and lifted his shirt with his other hand to show the bandage on his hip. “I need to stay, to rest. I was shot kidney, it was . . . cudurka. Hurt bad, broken up. They took it out.”
  “Did it hurt?”
  “No, not so bad.”
  “Oh, that reminds me,” said Paige. “I wrote you a poem. I wanted to share it with you.”
  “A poem?” he said.
  “Yes, promise you won’t laugh, the translation might be a bit bad,” she said, taking the note out of her pocket.
  “Never at you,” he said.
Paige cleared her throat, feeling a little nervous:
“Labada Waxaan aad u fog, oo weli laga dareemayo si dhow;
Bishii riyadeeyda, adduunka inagu dhexeeya kuma jiro.”
  “We both so far, yet we feel so very close;” Mohamed translated, with a smile. ”In my dreams, there’s no world between us.”
  “I hope it’s not dorky,” she said.
  “It’s not dorky,” he said. “It’s beautiful . . . like you.”
  “Aww . . .” Paige swooned.
After a moment, he glanced up in the air and frowned. “What is that?”
  “Oh, that’s Hoverfly,” said Paige. “He’s my chaperone drone. Just keeping an eye on me to make sure I don’t get into trouble.”
  “It’s watching us?” he said.
  “Yeah, don’t worry. It’s cute and clever, but it’s just a robot.”
  “Okay. Could it go away? So we can have privacy. I don’t want any more technology pulling us apart.”
  “It won’t,” said Paige. “But if you want . . . Hoverfly, Sleep.”
The robot flew down to the foot of the bed, switched off with a beep and folded up its propellers. Paige picked it up and put it in the bag under her chair. Before she sat down, Mohamed spoke.
  “No don’t sit,” said Mohamed, shuffling over in the bed and patting the sheet beside him. “Come, join me.”
  “What?”
  “The chairs are not comfortable, come on,” he said.
With a smirk, Paige climbed onto the bed beside him. As she settled in, Mohamed took her hand in his.
  “I have to tell you,” Paige said softly, so only he could hear, “I do have to go home in a few days, when the boat leaves.”
  “I don’t mind,” he said. “This, now, is as close as I feel to you. Always. So very close.”
  “Yet, so far,” said Paige.
  “It is good to finally kiss you,” said Mohamed.
  “We can do more if you want,” said Paige. “How long do you have to stay in the hospital?”
  “They should let me go home today.”
  “Then we can have our first date,” said Paige, excitedly.
  “So long as it’s safe,” said Mohamed, with a frown. “I wouldn’t want you to get shot.”
  “It’s okay, I thought of that,” said Paige. “When I got directions to the hospital, I asked one of the staff on the ship about coming aboard. They said that they can give you a visitor’s pass. You have to leave before we disembark, but we can visit a restaurant or cafe on the ship, so long as it’s not the buffet.”
  “That would be perfect,” said Mohamed. “I’ve never been on a ship before.”
  “Oh, right!” says Paige, taking her phone out of her pocket. “I wanted to show you my trip.”
She took the phone out of her pocket and opened up her photo album, then began showing it to Mohamed, with commentary on each image as to what she had done. She nestled her head on his shoulder and leaned towards her so he could see each picture . . . and the two of them couldn’t have been happier in that moment.

The End

Closing the Book on 2017

Today is the New Year's Morrow - the Second of January, 2018. One of the many days in the coming year, but I'm not all that excited for it, to be honest. Don't get me wrong, I'm not dreading it, but I don't really feel all that great. It's another year, another day. I seem to be percolating a nostalgic melancholy.
However, I do appreciate a good milestone, an opportunity to look at how far we've come, and maybe even have a glimpse at where we're going.

See, last month, I was wondering if I should even "do" a New Years post, since I don't always do them, and I don't even really have resolutions.
But then, I remembered my blog post for last year: New Year's Retribution.
I made a promise there, to write posts specifically against the horrible shit that happened in 2016. Now, I didn't actually plan to, since after that rant, I didn't have too much to say. However, I did respond to all three of the points I made.
In opposition to ISIS in 2016, and how religious bigotry had lead to meaningless murder and pain, I wrote a post about the folly of religion that I called Your God Does Not Exist.
In opposition to Racism in 2016, and how it was lending to xenophobia and hatred, I wrote a post about racism in horror, and how it is dying out in a post called Hatecraft.
In opposition to Trump in 2016, and how it lead to unrelenting stupidity and ignorance, I wrote a post about skepticism and how we can be smarter, called Skepticism 101.

However, this year wasn't so horrifying. It had its moments, but nothing like 2016, so whereas in 2017 I wanted retribution for the things the previous year had done to me . . . this year, I want to make reparations for the things I've done to myself in the year prior.
See, in looking back at the year, I've started to realize how often the things that disappoint me about my blog, are caused by me - or uncaused by me, as the case may be.

The GameBlog, that was a blogging event I promised almost five years ago, in Late Spring Cleaning, yet that's still scarcely even been attempted.
Duke Forever, has fallen drastically by the wayside. I have recontextualized it several different times, and at present moment, I feel as though I will barely finish Volume One.
I've even looked back on the posts in the past where I've promised upcoming posts . . . and absolutely failed to deliver.
And on a more personal level of my writing journey, I have not had very many of my stories published, even though that is a large goal of mine.

I keep doing this to myself, and I don't like it, since even though you, as my readers, are often either complacent enough, or not vocal enough to complain about these unfulfilled blogging/writing plans - I'm self-critical enough to feel the weight of those unfulfilled promises, nonetheless.

So, for this year, my goal is to rectify these mistakes:

• I want to write my GameBlog, and publish it on this website
• I want to try to bring Duke Forever towards some kind of conclusion
• I want to have some of my longer writing Published.

Now, three seems to be the traditional number of goals I do for these things, but that's because these are my writing goals. I also have the goals of living healthier; getting a job; finding a girlfriend . . . and whilst all of these are fun, I don't think they are as relevant to you, since I don't really talk about that on the blog.

Ironically, getting Published is the easiest part, since I already have set those plans in motion, and I have some anthologies and magazines in mind, as well as stories to write for them. And if all of those plans fail, I have many fallback plans to get back on my feet.
I have high hopes for the GameBlog, but I know it will be quite difficult, as in previous attempts I experienced how hard it is to structure a branching story. But, I have a plot idea, so I have my fingers crossed.
But, the hardest of all will be Duke Forever. I have struggled with that story the most, because I've written it for so long that my writing abilities have exceeded what they were when I began to write it, so its hard to face that story once again. However, I don't like the idea of leaving it unfinished. I recognize that I will never write as much as I originally planned, but I want to bring the current volume to its conclusion. I owe that much to my readers but, moreso, I feel like I owe that much to the Duke. It's not the character's fault that I wrote him when I was younger and more prone to simple mistakes. And, even though it will require a lot of time on my part, and I'm not even sure how many people still enjoy my fanfiction blogserial . . . I still like the stories I have planned for Volume One.
The future stories? Later Volumes? They could be cannibalized into other stories I write. But, that's another story for another day. For now, if I can just finish this one volume, then I can be happy with it.

At least, that's what I tell myself . . .

Also, I liked my "at least one per month" writing goal, however, I have one simple, little goal in regards to blog-writing. I want to write more this year than I did last year. Sounds simple enough, let's see if I can pull it off.

I'm the Absurd Word Nerd, and it seems as though I've left some threads unsewn, some knots untied. I plan to rectify that, this year, starting by writing some short stories for upcoming anthologies. I'll let you know how that all pans out . . .
Until next time, what are your goals for the upcoming year, and do they have anything to do with your writing? Let me know in the comments section, and I hope you've had a Happy New Year.