I have lost my appetite for many things. Many things of which I thought they had various degrees of importance at one point or another. Some seemed vital even though they now are less than irrelevant. Immaterial. Ever since I embarked on this makeshift voyage of letting go, ever more things have lost their appeal. Their lush intent, once so clear and apparent and charming to me, just faded. I’m looking forward to reaching twice my current age to experience the quality of disinterest I have accomplished. Will I be abundantly empty? Or will I just realise how foolish my pursuit has been? Will I have replaced it all with another artifice? Up to a certain, and I can’t remember which, age I pined and craved for more. I was in constant search of something definitive but grossly undefined. Even though my mind was reasoning along a more moderate even minimalistic path, my deeper subconscious being was tacitly in control, as it is in most of us. So I looked and looked everywhere but as m