Suffering, I think, is one of the signs that an afterlife exists.
It it possible to be completely satisfied on Earth? I think not. This tells me we we're made for another place and time. We're like embryos, biding our time until we can become fully human.
It would be a strange world if humans got hunger pangs, but no food existed.
Tuesday morning. 330 AM. Current time. Have not slept-really slept-since Saturday night. Have taken some extended naps and worked nearly 30 hours so far this week. Amazingly-not very tired. Caffeine and chai tea, you know. Not really tired, more like a full body malaise. The mind is not tired. It's on auto-pilot. Cannot stop thinking-fast. Not eaten much either. Just want to stare out the window at the moon. Still at work. Always at work. Saturday. Something strange. Watched TV for 45 minutes.
Description of the table beside me: black ebony surface. @50 glass bottles of pulverized coal that can fit through a 60-mesh screen, a bottle of Benzoic Acid for calibrating bombs, compressed air can, one metal spatula, an ancient radio that Tertullian might have used, 2 pens, one pencil, half a book holder, dust, 3 notebooks explaining the intricacies of bomb calorimeters (interesting reading, btw), two more notebooks containing the scribblings of some co-workers (they might be alchemists), some biotech magazines, a calendar with train pictures. I should mention that inside the table, one can find a dozen or more packs of condiments and probably a plastic knife. . .and a pez dispenser (a silver kermit-like creature that boxes).