If you want to find a happy man, find a man pushing a rock, one that will eternally roll back down the hill, his enjoyment spaced out in just far enough doses so that he does not numb himself to the pleasure.
After this moment, he walks back down the mountain, mentally preparing for another run, and then repeats the same task until experiencing his whirl of happiness yet again. He suffers no malaise or existential crisis, and every time he pushes his rock to the top of the mountain I imagine he experiences the purest form of happiness. Sisyphus is indeed the happiest man in the world because he has purpose. At each of those moments when he leaves the heights and gradually sinks toward the lairs of the gods, he is superior to his fate. That hour like a breathing-space which returns as surely as his suffering, that is the hour of consciousness. I see going back down with a heavy yet measured step toward the torment of which he will never know the end. Sisyphus is a reflection of human existence, the neverending labor we must expend, the repetition of our lives. It has been said that this is the worst punishment that can be given to man, but we all have been given the exact same punishment. Sisyphus was condemned by the gods to roll a large boulder up a hill, only to have it fall back down again, a futile task he had to repeat for all eternity. I was commended for my ideas, and then a couple weeks later, the article was forgotten, just another entry on the internet blog heap, and I must start over again with a new idea, a new article, and hope that it’s received just as well. After one hour, two hours, maybe three hours of work, I constructed something I wanted my name attached to.
I stared at the blinking cursor on the screen, waiting for my mind to arrange words in a way that people can understand and enjoy. I sat in front of my computer to write an article. Finally I could relax! But only a short time, because soon I will have to start over from nothing, approaching for days or weeks until finding what I want. Then I made a better conquest on a girl I wanted to keep. After a short break, I labored again for three weeks, approaching every day, until I succeeded on a girl who in the end was not worth keeping. I was still fatigued from my month of strenuous effort, but I had no choice but to run back onto the field. We had a handful of nice dates, but then it ended, partly due to reasons out of my control. Finally, after another week of labor, I made a catch that I wanted to keep. Within three weeks, I had sex with two women, but I do not greatly enjoy their company, so I threw them back into the sea. I commited at least one hour a day to this task. I went to clubs, cafes, malls, and the town square to meet women. I arrived in a new city and had to start my game efforts from scratch.