What is lunch? Why do we eat it? Who invented lunch? What is love?
These questions have perplexed the greatest minds for generations.
For the average individual, lunch is simply a midday meal—an intermission in the grand performance of daily existence. But to the enlightened, lunch is far more. It is a statement. A ritual. A **delicate dance between hunger and fulfillment**.
Some say the first recorded instance of lunch occurred in ancient Mesopotamia, where merchants paused their tireless labor to consume bread and olives. Others argue that lunch was conceptualized by the Romans, who, in their boundless decadence, deemed breakfast insufficient. Yet, does lunch need an origin? Or has it simply always been?
When I eat food, I do not merely consume calories—I confront the impermanence of existence. My mind fixates not on nutrition, but on the **inevitable eruption of the Yellowstone supervolcano**—a ticking time bomb that will one day render our lunch breaks meaningless.
And yet, I eat. Because if humanity must fade, let it fade with a bagel in hand.
Return to Reality