the comparative contentedness that i'm immersed in as of the moment far outweighs my biological vessel prompting me in a rather incessant way to fetch sustenance. i would just rather enjoy sitting here until i start feeling either irritatingly bored or the hunger grows really strong. either way, i'm yearning mostly for being static, i just don't want to move. call me languid or whatever, it just feels like i'll never get into this state again, i want to enjoy it before it perishes and i'm faced with some of life's perils again. life is not meant to be joyful, i was told. i agree wholly, and have adamantly accepted this and adopted a relatively ascetic lifestyle compared to most other people i meet in order to maximize what limited and perhaps underlying feelings of contentedness i can bring out