Reason is incompetent to answer any fundamental question about God, or morality, or the meaning of life.
Dear child, it matters not if the boy loves you. It only matters if you love the Sun, and the Rain, and the Donut, and the Cat, and the colour Purple. It only matters if you love having this one precious life. It doesn't matter if the boy doesn't love you.
I live for sex. I celebrate it, and relish the electricity of it, with every fibre of my being. I can see no better reason for being alive.
To feel aroused is to feel alive. Having great sex is like taking in huge lungfuls of fresh air, essential to your body, essential to your health, and essential to your life.
I love being aroused. I relish that delicious feeling of freedom, the delirium of being naked, and my flesh being born again. It’s like I’m being made new.
Maybe life is playing the role it should: forever taking us on a journey where it makes it impossible for us to predict what will happen next.