Purpose

Purpose

What is this thing,
This intangible thing we call Life?
Why are we so driven to find purpose in it?
How do we know if we've succeeded?

And if you do succeed,
What then?

If you manage to reach the point of complete satisfaction with every aspect of your life,
What is left?

Would you continue to be content with everything?

Is it a big house, a fancy car, a spouse, a dog?
Is it finding new thrills and excitement, always pursuing that bigger adrenaline rush?

For, it seems that our goals aren't to achieve perfection,
Merely to have something to chase after,
Be it love, sex, wealth, charity, drugs, adventure, reknown, a career, or offspring.

Once you have experienced all that life has to offer, there would be nothing left except to experience it all again.

The only certain thing in life is its imminent end,
Yet, just as time has no end and no beginning,
Our quest for something more is eternal.

There are times when I am envious of simpler creatures, who have no care in the world,
No drive except to do what is absolutely necessary.
Not to live, but to simply exist, to survive.