Point of it all

What is the point of it all when it comes to it? What is the purpose of life? The meaning of it? Why are we here? What is it we are meant to do?

Those questions are as old as humanity, and yet, we've not found the answer to it. Some people seem to have found an answer, seem to have found that purpose, that meaning with it all. And yet, they can't tell you what it is, they can't give you the answer. It's an answer only you can find.

Isn't it frustrating? I find it so. I sit here and think that there must be more to it all. That there must be more meaning to my life than trying to get a job, trying to support myself and taking care of my daughter.

Yeah, of course, raising a child is important. But I am more than that. I am more than a mother. I just don't know what. I don't know what that more is I'm looking for.

For I'm looking. I'm searching for that meaning with life. That thing that makes the difference to me. The thing that'll make me jump out of bed in the morning and think that this is a wonderful day and that it's important and I have things to do that has meaning and purpose and reason.

I don't know where to find it. My inner self seems like a murky place where light can't penetrate, where there's no signs showing me the way.

There must be more to things. There just must be. If not, it's all way too depressive.

I need more.