Acceding to the demands of desire had become to him like being enrolled in an army reserve. At regular intervals he was torn out of his usual routine and made to go off and play soldier for a week or two, until it was over and he could return, tired and overstimulated, to his own life and quiet routines. However, being back in the army was not without its gratifications, he got to swagger around a bit and burn off some civilian fat, but, uncomfortable in the uniform, he was aware that he could never be as entirely natural in carrying out these military manoeuvres as the pros. He welcomed the camaraderie, the opportunities to complain about the life and its ordinary humiliations with his friends, all of whom were more or less in the same boat, and it was reassuring to think that his force was still worth something to the state. It kept him feeling young, but after a time, at a certain age, he had served his term and was exempt from further training - the summonses could now be ignored, continuing was optional. It was more of a relief than he'd expected, but there were always some fellows who'd do anything to keep going back, to say nothing of the lifers. It was his relationship to the state that was now in question. While it had seemed that the state required his service, this was only a convenient fiction for his own need for the state. Outside it he had no purpose, and only from here, the dizzying realisation that all purpose had only ever been imaginary submission to imaginary beliefs.