Life, or something close to it.

I do not wish to scale the highest mountain. For then, what do I have left to climb? Once I reach the tallest peak, even the smallest of steps that I take next, will mark the beginning of my decline. I do not wish to cross the widest sea. For then, what do I swim across next? Will then the water that set me free feel the same again? I do not have a set objective for life, neither a definite goal nor a divine purpose. I am not in a resolute pursuit of the ultimate. I am apprehensive about a wholehearted devotion to a singular cause that is supposed to hold the meaning of life. And though I am scared of being a complete and abject failure, I am more fearful of any abrupt success. Because if I somehow fulfill the purpose, that I have prepared my whole life for, will I not be then doomed to a life of glorious reminiscence and regrettable future? If I prepare my whole life to climb the tallest mountain or swim across the widest sea, and once I complete it, will I be able to climb any other mountain with the same passion? Will the sea hold the same sense of freedom she once did? All I have in life are just these, my questions. And all I want my life to be is a defiant pursuit of answers. A pursuit of neither the riches of the coffers of Hades, nor the romantic blessings of Aphrodite but just a simple yearning to pass this life in a journey where on my way I manage to collect a few answers and I wish the answers I do receive lead me to more questions, and my thirst keep increasing, till I reach a point where either I feel comfortable with the answers my life has offered or my quest overwhelms me and renders me motionless. But if I do feel content on having learnt all that I wanted to learn, if I do feel satisfied that I know all that I wanted to know, if I can decree my thirst quenched, I will consider my life fruitful, my purpose complete and I will welcome my death. But for now, I wish for courage to never forget what I am and not give up my pursuit of the unknown.