You would say anything and you would try anything to escape your meaningless and your insignificance...

At what point does searching for something with substance become just another wayward dream? How long must one aspire to such dreams before realising they might just be out of reach? People waste away their lives looking for something without ever really knowing what it is they're trying to find; does this equate to a life well spent? Perhaps it's simply easier to surrender ourselves to our own mundane existence and accept that fact that we're all just insignificant creatures in a world that is far beyond anything we could ever hope to understand. Waiting for our dreams to come to us is just as, if not more, senseless; time will eventually fade us away into nothingness without anything to show for the time spent. To be proactive about our lives is the key; however, how much dedication and motivation is required to get to where we want to be? Not only is the quantity difficult to measure, but simply acquiring the motive to begin with is a challenge within itself. There has to be a purpose to our existence here or why else would we even exist? The issue though is how we go about searching for ourselves and whether or not, in the end, it's even worth the trouble at all.

...and it's driving me mad.