Months into the search

Its been a year and a half since my last post, and I'm no closer to finding life than I was in 2010. I've loved and loved harder and lost and regained. I've been hurt, slammed, turned upside down. Tuned out, tuned in, and turned inside out. I've traveled here and there and stumbled across some fears. I've written some poems that came from raw emotion and I've read and studied and searched. I'm tired and I'm numb, and this is the only conclusion I've come to about life... I don't think there's anything in this world that I really want or truly care about anymore. Not music. Not money. Not knowledge. Not accomplishment. Not beauty. Not passion. Not even love. It's all pointless. It's all a big lie. None of it matters. It's not worth anything. In order to accomplish something, you don't get to enjoy anything. To love someone, you leave yourself completely vulnerable. Money allows you possessions that fulfill nothing except acting as fuel to desire more possesions. Music is just sounds to fill your head with desires that will never be conceived.   Beauty is a mirage that diminishes self. Passion is a flame which tortures your soul.  Knowledge does nothing except to make you realize how futile it all is.    What is the end result of it all? Death. We live our lives to be in love or to be successful or to accomplish a dream. But what then? We fall in love and live each day just to be together with that special someone,  but after some time, does that togetherness not become mundane?  Maybe we spend our lives working to become a success, but what is success? A nice car? A big home? At what cost? At the cost of being held hostage by the things that you worked so hard to acquire?  Maybe happiness is to accomplish something...something small, something big...but after you accomplish it then what? The next thing? Something bigger and bigger and bigger....until...you die...and what then, is the value of accomplishment?  There's always a price to pay. True happiness cannot be conceived. It does not exist...as perfection does not exist. We are perpetually striving to acquire or accomplish things which do not exist.  Perhaps tomorrow or next year I will feel differently, but this is what I have found thus far. The search for life in in my life is a pointless quest-one that will uncover no true fulfillment, just busy work that allows me to forget all this until my time comes.