The answer to my insanity lies with Donald Miller....

(all written by Donald Miller, Through Painted Deserts)
My life, this gift I have been given, has been wasted, thus far, attempting to answer meaningless questions. Recently I have come to believe there are more important questions than how questions: how do I get money, how do I get laid, how do I become happy, how do I have fun?

What does all of this mean? Are we animals nesting? Are we rats in one giant cage, none of us able to think outside our instincts? And does my faith live within these instincts, always getting me to my happiness, or is it larger, explaining the why of life, the how a shallow afterthought?

Sometimes I admire people who don't ask why questions, who only want to know the how of life: How do I get paid, how do I get a wife, how do I make myself happy, whatever. The why path isn't so rewarding, if you think about it: Why are we here, why do we feel what we feel, desire what we desire, need what we need, hate what we hate?

I saw this Calvin and Hobbes cartoon once that had Calvins teacher asking the class to turn in their homework. Calvin raised his hand and asked why we exist. The teacher told Calvin not to change the subject but to turn in his homework, and what difference does it make anyway? Calvin leaned back in his chair and mumbled to himself that the answer to the question determined whether or not turning in his homework was important in the first place. I think that is what I am talking about here, about needing the answer to the former question before the latter becomes important, about why questions determining whether how questions are important.

And that is what I mean by admiring people who don't think about the why questions, because they can just get a job, a big house, a trophy wife, and do whatever they want and never ask if it is connected to anything, whether their how is validated by their why.

Point being: I AM A WHY PERSON!!!