They say the best remedy for any of life's pain is laughter. They say music can soothe even the most fierce of animals. They say the rain is tears running from heaven. They say experience is understanding. They say never be content. They say never be perfect.

I don't know who they are.

The only remedy I want currently only exists in my imagination, and laughter is unfortunately only part of that imaginary existence. I wish music was a silent form of expression; a pencil and paper can only take me so far. Rain has always felt cold, like it had fallen up from the bottom of a lake. I'm still not sure if I've experienced understanding. I'm still not sure if I've experienced happiness, and perfection is eternities away.

So why do they say it?

All the quotes and mantras I've ever read are simplifications of complex concepts and issues, things that go far beyond cliches, past advice and even words. There's something hypocritical in writing on things I claim exceed the reach of words. This is the hopeless romantic in me, reaching for things and unsure of their existence. A hand in the dark. This is my expedition, my Everest, my ocean, my universe. The one thing I'll spend a lifetime trying to find, to reach the top, to reach the bottom, to touch the edge.

But even the longest journey has an end and even the highest mountain has a peak. The oceans have a floor and the universe has a border. I could be inches away from any end and not know it, or I could be wandering in futility only to inevitably collapse, nearly touching the end or miles upon miles away. The sense of mystery is both compelling and endlessly frustrating. It pushes me forward and drags me back. It's perpetual motion. It's invigorating. It's infuriating. Everything has a beginning and an end.

Right?