time is spent searching for some sense of fulfillment across all levels of satisfaction, from temporary physical comforts to an intangible sense of well-being. whilst fulfillment can transcend even the conscious limits we imprison ourselves with, the beauty of our freedom is the ability to choose what we desire. from the simplicity of rendering yourself into a puddle of blubbering waste in front of the telly, through the spectrum of dedicating your life into a purposeful existence - you can only be who you choose to be. the world can slow you down, but the damage it can do is only what you allow it to become.
all this time spent asking, discovering, seeking. sometimes i wonder if the answer really matters as much as the question does.
the last line is what it's about, man