I'll always see it as half empty, forever filling it, not realizing there's a crack in the glass, seeping of water. I'm trying to fill it, but it never will be. Sometimes I stop, look at the glass and figure, "What's the point?", knowing that I'll go to my grave having never filled it. I'm not the only person that's unsatisfied. Why do I think that my parents aren't proud of my achievements? Why do I seek approval from others? Why, why, why......the end of the road that has the pot of gold does not exist. I attempt to be a professional actor, and even then, I'll always see that half-empty glass. The day I'm satisfied is...never. I'm never content with my surroundings or my life for that matter. When I was a kid, I couldn't wait to be an adult, now I often reflect on when I was a kid, focussing on the good parts. My teddybears symbolize the golden years: they are best reflected on. "My life is perfect, because I accept it as it is", sung by Lenny Kravitz in "Eleutheria", or however it's spelled. Nobody's life is perfect because the glass isn't filled to the brim. Why can't we focus on what makes us content in the moment? I feel that no matter what, I'll never satisfy my parent's goals for me, that my brothers will never see me as worthy, that I'll never have the actor's career that I want, that I'll never find my soul mate, that I'll never see a perfect body in my mirror, that the hole in myself will never be filled, that my glass will never be completely full. Even if it's half full, it's still half empty: it's both, not either/or.

The key to this doorway is to accept this, that we'll never be fulfilled, and the journey of life is to keep filling it up. We use addictions, hobbies, jobs, people, shopping, all to fill us up, thinking this is what will satisfy us. Human beings are insatiable. We believe we'll be full of happiness, yet it eludes us.