On Satisfaction

The culmination of an undertaking is not the climax, it is the afterglow. The remembrance of accomplishing a grandiose goal or the mundane task executed flawlessly.

Satisfaction. The apotheosis of deliberate action, and the maturation of desire.

Because we never work towards a goal only. We do not do things simply to see them done: it was never purely about survival. Those who only survive and do not strive are dead inside. There must be more. The relief of completion and the sweet, melancholic nostalgia of never being able to remain in an emotionally orgasmic state.

Even the braggarts who vie on talk of their accomplishments can not be sustained on bragging alone. Actualization is not appreciation. Nor is acknowledgement from others akin to fulfillment.

No 'greater good' humanitarian-driven ideal can replace the individual nirvana of a personal pursuit realized. Even that which is done for the entire human race must be self motivated in order to bear tangible fruit.

In this way, no act of positivity is purely selfless. The difference lies in one's self understanding and ability to parse the nearly microscopic lines between ambition and love. The two married have the power to shake the very fabric of existence.

Satisfaction must be internalized before it can be crystalized into eternity. Fleeting as the apex may be, the afterglow can sustain. And it is invincible, resistant even to the fires of hubris and madness.

Satisfaction, the crown of purpose. The most valuable currency in the universe, and the answer to the question everyone asks at some point: "Why did I start doing this in the first place?"