Partum vel intereo
It would be great if I could write some fiction. I'm not sure how to begin. I might take another creative writing class. What the heck would i write about. You are supposed to write about something you know. Hmmm. I know computers, but not how to tell people about computers or things that happen on computers. At least, not in a way that would not put people to sleep in five minutes. I can know something if I need. Thanks to Google, any one on the planet can be a top information aficionado in moments. Try reading some Trivial Pursuit questions and look up the answers on Google. I bet it doesn't take you very long to find the answers.
You know what show has good story lines? The X-Files. They put as much effort into their stories as the old Outer Limits, or the Twilight Zone. OK, The original Twilight Zone blows the X-Files away, but still, The X-Files has Blossom beat by miles.
Oh, fiction. So, where do I begin? I took a creative writing class many moons ago. I learned at once that you must have a test audience. I also learned that you must put some piece of yourself into the fiction or you won't get any where. At least, I must. I suppose it is a bit different for everyone. I enjoy putting the words down on the page. I love it when the screen slowly fills with text. I like the feel of the keyboard tapping. I like the sound the keys make. I used to think I liked loud keyboard, but I like the quiet ones as long as they give that tactile and some kind of auditory stimulation. Visual, audio, tactile, I suppose I like the smell and taste of the coffee that I normally drink while writing. Put it all together and you have a feeling of existence, a purpose. It is something that I do that really makes me feel like I am here. There is not much that can do that for someone.
It is difficult to look for something that pleases us. When we find it, we typically hold on tightly.
That is a bit too deep. I mention again that I have nothing to write about. I enjoy reading scifi and fantasy novels and graphic novels, but I don't think there is one inside me trying to come out. Frankly, there is not much in there. There is something there. It is under a tarp in the middle of a baron floor. I don't know why, but it will take someone else to remove the cover.

Lets cover one of the big questions.
Why are we here? or What is the purpose of life?
This question, it is the same question stated differently, exists really as a means of discussion. So, without further to-do, lets converse. (That means leave comments.)
Why are we here? Shell we consider the alternative? How boring would it be if there was no one to ask? The lions would eat the caribou. The grass would grow. The sun would shine. But, no one would ask. I say we are here to ask. The planet was getting boring to God. So, here we are, the instrument of the destruction left in charge of all that is worth anything. Sometimes I wonder if we are the acid designed to clean the Petri dish-dish. That is a typical answer though.
Lets look externally to Earth and humanity. I'm trying to think of something to say to that. All the thoughts I try to come up with are human centric. What possible advantage could there be to the universe as we know it that life, much less humans,  exists at all? There are theories that say not every attribute of a creature (Darwinism) is advantageous. Some attributes are just there and not very harmful, thus don't go away. That has got to be what life is to the universe. We are just here, and not that harmful, so we won't go away.
There, done. That was easy. Now, you can all stop asking the same tired question. and get on with, well, life.