What do people actually want? It isn’t wealth. Not truly. Nor fame or leisure. These are shadows cast by a deeper yearning—to belong, to matter, to be. We are not creatures of contentment; we are creatures of conatus: the inner drive to persist, to strive, to shape a life that is unmistakably ours. In a world of hollow pleasures and flickering idols, what we seek is not comfort but meaning—not distraction but home.