A very long time ago, someone asked me the most profound question I've ever been asked in my life. I have been pondering this question for over a decade. The question was as simply wise as it was brief. The question was, "Why does your life suck?"
It was asked by a passerby passing by in a sports car, out the passenger window. At the time, even the reason for his asking thoroughly evaded me - much more so the answer - but yesterday, over 10 years later, everything made sense. Firstly, the reason he asked was because I was constantly asking myself, and I wore it all over my face.
The ever elusive answer to his question which was just out of my reach, like the floaty things in your eyes that dart and dodge around when you move your eyes to look at them; the answer that took me 10+ years *only counting after* the date I was asked by another person, and 20+ years *before that* to finally capture enough of the essence that I can put it into words that don't make me sound like an emotional and ungrateful teenager, is:
I go somewhere every day, I do things every day. I don't go to these places and do these things to better myself, or to advance in the world, or gain anything for myself. I don't acquire knowledge and skills. I don't develop myself to the full potential I was designed for. I don't go for myself. I go because someone else needs something. Someone else wants something. Someone needs a six figure salary. Someone wants to buy their wife a pair of big fake tits. Someone needs to feed their meth and gambling addiction. Someone wants to buy an 80 thousand dollar truck. Someone needs a house. Someone wants a bigger house. Someone needs a reason to stay at home and collect money. Someone wants more resources. I go and help make that possible. I help create someone else's dream, and in return, I get only what I need to keep doing that.