It has been recommended that people pursue the interests that bring them joy rather then the careers that bring them financial security, that they devote themselves to what they would wish to do if money were no object. Well, If money were no object, how would I spend my life? I would lay in bed reading books and watching movies. I would take long baths while listening to music and contemplating how dead religions have shaped modern thought, ponder the influence of fiction on the direction of scientific development, imagine ways in which different biological and environmental features would have shaped theoretical cultures and civilizations, and sinking toy boats. I would dine on sumptuous meals of great variety and nuance. I would most likely indulge myself in any and all hedonistic urges that crawled out of my subconscious, much to the stupefying detriment of my intellectual and psychological well being. I am a primitive enough being that were I left to my own devices surely my gut and groin would quickly triumph over my feeble and etiolated intellect, and yet I am mature enough to expostulate that this would likely be the case. In all I suppose I should thank our civilization for being structured in such a way as to preclude the feasibility of such a self-actualized lifestyle being long endured, but instead I think I will do as any sensible idiotrope and resign myself to hating it with a deep and abiding passion. The pursuit of passing fancies and unsustainable simple joys can lead to as much long term despair and misery as pleasureless dedication to financial security. It is likely that whatever path you take you will find sporadic and fleeting joys, but you will never find lasting satisfaction or fulfillment that is not taxed by nagging suspicions that you could have had so much more if only you had the dedication and foresight to endeavor to persevere and circumvent obstacles. There is much joy to be had in this world, but it will come and go as it pleases with little regard to the life you have chosen. Perhaps I am only bitter with myself for failing to strive to develop a talent for literature, music, or engineering, but what happiness may one find in perpetual uphill struggle? Perhaps I'll ask Sisyphus.
