I love black licorice. That weird multi-colored bridge-mix. Australian soft. Whips, dips, spirals and the archaic but cherished Good n’ Plenty.
One of the reasons that I enjoy this candy so much is that, for a moment, when I eat licorice I forget about how absurd and pointless the universe is. The flavor is ancient. Anise, fennel, and even the licorice root itself (which is actually bad for your heart), provides that distinct flavor and odor. I’m sure it’s been in use for millennia.
But even a mouthful of candy-coated black-colored unctuousness cannot compensate for the feeling of falling into the void of futility that gapes like a hungry maw. A mouth that hangs open for every diverting thought I send its way—The Universe is Absurd it whispers.
What simple pleasures do you find that ease this sense of emptiness?