An Introspective Question

I drive, and drive, towards knowing truth, wanting to understand the inner desire to uncover truth. I contemplate her, and him, those beautiful souls in the bodies of my own blood who I saw and touched as they arrived. And I equally accept, and bathe in the mere joy of their existence, simply so, abstaining from this intrinsic hunger which wants to dissect the wonder of who they are.

Why this wish to know, when the truth is simply that they are?

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