We're fixin' the problem, mate.

"Once upon a time, there was a girl called Scatterheart, who was selfish and vain, with a heart as fickle as the changing winds..."

We're all bound to our own perspectives and opinions and judgements and whatnots. We all perceive things the way we want to because its the way we choose to see things as. Subconciously we judge everything we see around us, despite the stand that we so frequently abuse - having no right whatsoever to judge. But we should really slap ourselves with this righteous statement because undeniably, we all still judge.

Okay, that was very much out of line because the topic I was meaning to bring up is whether fickle people actually find contentment and happiness. Do they, now?

So would I call myself a fickle son of a bitch? For one, I have ever changing ambitions/interests. I had wanted to be a teacher, a chef, a pilot, an assasin, a painter, a nurse, a dentist, a photographer, a curator, an archaeologist, a stewardess, a police officer, a medical examinor and a couple of other spontaneous positions. Fickle because I do not have a long persevering dream.

Sometimes indirectly I'm searching for some sort of happiness, something that would help guarantee a life so luxurious only to numb the hard times. The polished suits, the Volvo/Audi/Lexus, the big glass office, the sophisticated condominium, the constant vacations, the executive memberships, everything. Materialism is a sin, quite visibly, but I guess the only reason we indulge in this shit is because it is visible and tangible. Somewhat like a physical proof of goodness. This, is the current dream.

So, do fickle people get happiness? Do we actually achieve contentment when our needs and wants and expectations constantly alter like the position of the sun in the sky?