Taking my bearings

How, as a boysexual man, should I live the remainder of my life? First, I must take my bearings. My country is a satrapy of the US; it is dominated by an Atlanticist political establishment that, among other things, continues to delegitimise criticism of Israel and Zionism. The political establishment are largely beholden to a multimillionaire and billionaire class whose material interests are contrary to those of the great majority. Some members of this billionaire class have carved out a political career by getting a substantial section of the working class (bereft of the solidarity of the pre-Thatcher era) to demonise people who are even more marginalised within the neoliberal order than themselves. Instead of holding power to account, our media class, itself staffed by the ruling class and serving their interests, prefers to offer up for the entertainment of the masses an endless cycle of sex scandals involving celebrities caught out by the ever-widening definitions of rape and abuse. If my countrymen won't do anything to help themselves, then it makes absolutely zero difference whether I care or not. Until a slave rebels against his slavery, there is nothing to be done. I have been fortunate in never having done anything criminal. As an adult, I have only had sexual relationships with other men, and, although there were some sexual experiences when I was a boy at boarding school of the mutual masturbation variety, they all involved boys who were age peers; in fact, boys who were slightly older than myself. Having entered into late middle age, I am quite happily celibate, and find that I have no further need of sex. I find that I am picking up the threads of my life that began when I was a small boy; rereading the books that affected me most when I was young, that formed my personality. I find that following these threads leads me to the core of my personality, to what concerns me most. In my beginning is my end. I shall retreat to my (increasingly magnificent) library. I want to study, before I die, some of the great philosophical works and works of literature that I have hitherto neglected. I shall love those that I love: my companion, my cat, the animals who visit my garden. I shall watch the weather, watch the seasons go by (a source of endless fascination - thank god my home is a long, long way from anywhere). I used to have dreams (I'm not too embarrassed to admit) of being a celebrated philosopher!; before, as my academic career progressed, I gradually realised that "No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be" ... Still, I have done some decent exegetical work ... but does it really amount to anything? Will human civilisation last anyway? Is any activity worthwhile? ... But if something is worthwhile, it is standing up for human decency; so, yes, I will continue to stand up for the Palestinian people. If anything still matters, then that matters. Maybe, if civilisation survives, a new and better world will one day be born. Maybe the seeds of that world exist even now. In the meantime, I will dutifully support the only half decent political party in my country (so long as it remains half decent), and dutifully vote tactically against the fascists. What more is there to do? If this attitude offends anyone, then tough. I mean to live a long, long life, to outlast the pyramids, in order to gain that maximum possible understanding of the universe that has been the overriding telos of my life, even when I was a small lad digging sand castles on the seashore, and totally innocent of how the world was so constructed as to deny me the ultimate fulfilment of my being.