Albert Camus' The Myth of Sysiphus tells the story of Sysiphus, punished by the gods, sent to the underworld to push a rock up a hill for all eternity.
Aware that this will be his only purpose and action forever, he looks inside himself for a way to free his mind from the punishment. He decides that by "choosing" to push the rock up the hill– by finding enjoyment in his punishment and finding peace in the dependable and constant rock that will always fall back down for him to push back up– he frees himself from the gods' brutality, and mocks them openly in his newfound freedom to pursue a singular and clear purpose. He is eternally content, and happy; he will never have to strive for something better, or have a void to fill, or long for something more.
As I'm wading through a bitter ocean of this stress-pressure smoothie (do i taste ginger?), Sisyphus offers an interesting perspective on how to achieve happiness for myself, when trapped and forced to push a rock up a hill forever.
The problem though, is that it made me think of my life-long clamor and struggle for a better rock to push. I can deal with the four years in high school right now, cause I'm gonna go to college, which will make me happier. I realize that the happiness i'll feel when starting college will be quickly plateau, replaced by the longing for a job– and then I'm eternally fucked by the constant need to make more and more and more money. The difference between me and Sysiphus is that I'm living a life where I have a chase a bigger better high, instead of just pushing my rock. That's a punishment I can't flip the bird to my captors for, yet.
Just a thoughtski.
edit: I have so much to say in the comments but so little brain juice left to squeeze out for it. Damn you, Mr. Hegarty, God of the AP US History class, for punishing me to push my textbook into my brain for all eternity.