"Musings of an April Morning"

Only a handful of people have the right to say they've done something truly fantastic with their lives. The rest of us mull it, though the more honest ones own up to achieving minor greatness within their narrow spheres of existence. I'd say artists have the closest shot at understanding the meaning of life. Their perspectives split into a stark fork. Half believe life to be brimming with purpose, appreciating the simplest of things-- harnessing the collective beauty of their seemingly irrelevant surroundings. The other half, the faction to which I belong, find existence without meaning at all. Not nihilisticly so, but rather... viewing the world as a blank canvas... bookended by tools for painting-- both physical and inspirational.

That's all I have to say on this at the moment. I'll reflect on this duality in mindsets and perhaps post the result later on.