Once the ocean asked the same question, what is the meaning of life, the ocean roiled and rumbled, it ebbed and flowed, but the question remained unanswered. The ocean became perturbed, the fact is, the ocean was no longer an ocean, it became a wave, a mighty headstrong wave. That ocean wave then traversed vast expanses, along its quest for the meaning of its existence sometimes contending with other waves of the question just as big, and yet just as unanswerable. The wave moved on, sometimes toiling through doldrums, sometimes blasted by storms and mercilessly spun by cyclones and sometimes, pointlessly bashing against rocks. The wave became weak, some of it started to break down, turning into froth, that as the remnant of its own destruction it carried with pride upon its crest. The wave already so weak and distressed boiled under the burning sun, and its pride whisked away by the gale force winds. The winds ascended to the heavens and the pride of wave that they carried transformed into clouds.
The cloud then asked, what is the meaning of life, the cloud roiled and rumbled, it thundered and roared, but the question remained unanswered. The cloud so laden with thought, so lost in the skies, wandered all over the world, over and across mountains, over the deserts and the plains, until it reached such heights as were the ones too cold to sustain a free fleeting inhabitant of the skies so heavily brooding. And the cloud transformed into raindrops, the cloud started to dribble and drain, until it was all poured down, all its raindrops once more merged into the sea.