Contentment. Such a simple word, yet so hard to grasp what it really means. Does contentment imply happiness? What does happiness really mean? Isn't it all just a matter of where one stands in life? Isn't all of existence meaningless when it really comes down to it? Then how can terms like contentment, happiness, joy and others be anything but self-delusion?
I have had to re-evaluate the value I assign to my body many times, and most of the time I arrive at the conclusion that I'm a fool for even giving thought to the non-purely practical aspects of having a human body. Why this concern with finding friends, and someone to mate with? There's no point in reproducing since everything dies anyway, and sexuality is just giving in to bestial urges, which do not serve any purpose whatsoever. And aren't friends just a sign that humankind is just so terribly poor at cooperating that only small clumps of people can endure each other's company?
When I think of myself living on my own a number of months from now, I can only imagine me existing the way I do now; all alone in a room, with no friends dropping by, and without a girlfriend living together with me. To even assume that things can be differently is sheer lunacy, merely wishful thinking, not to mention staying optimistic about one's options in the face of crushing reality. Thinking and dreaming about such things only distract.
Maybe contentment and happiness is when you do not feel the emptiness within any more, nor the emptiness without when there are people around who don't merely pass you by on their way through life. Why do I long for this? I assume it's because right now I feel miserable about my current situation, so that anything different and not obviously worse has got to be desirable.
Yet in the end, isn't emptiness the only constant in life?