What does it mean to be fulfilled?

Ew, CARE.
Why must you make me think deeply about my life and what we should all want and why everyone is secretly fucked up and jealous of others.
You're meant to be happy god loving christians that wear funny novelty ties and awkwardly tall cowboy boots.

Ynow the only times I'm truly happy?
During the Summer, when I'm in a little beach town where everyone likes eachother and smile all the time, and a big event is when the guy with the ice cream truck drives down your street. Days where you spend hours on the beach, or at a friends house lazing outside and drinking glass after glass of coke, and never tell you're parents where you are or what you're doing because they're too relaxed to care, and you don't really know where they are half the time anyway.
Because at my beachouse in the summer, the world slows down, and theres nothing to worry about anymore, and, for a few months at least, I can imagine I live in a bubble devoid of time, where nowhere else in the world exists and life isn't full of death and prejudice and racism and hateful bullshit.

But then the Summer ends, and I remember where I am and what I'm doing, and I have to experiance that depressing pang that comes with the knowlege you're still sharing the world with Jimmy from Masterchef.