BREAKING: Drake has Found True Happiness

Dear Journal (Not Diary),

Hi. It's me, Drake. I have the most wonderful news. Today, April, 1, 2013, I am finally content. The fog of ennui that has shrouded my existence since I was but a young lad has finally dissipated. I am lugubrious no more. Events in my life have converged to supply me with everything I've ever wanted. Allow me to explain.

In response to going to a strip club the previous week, I visited the Clayoqout Sound to purge myself of the glittered stripper sweat toxins still present on and within my person. As I hiked to free my mind and find my first campsite of the day, I spotted a Marbled Murrelet. CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT? A MARBLED MURRELET. There are less than 15,000 left worldwide. I instantly connected with him/her. Their whole life is just an unflinching march towards The Reaper's icy death-scythe; their only concern being carnal passion and surviving. I took this as an omen. The rest of the trip was par for the course. I'm getting better at building a tipi. Also, I slaughtered my first black bear. Its flesh provided me with both sustenance for the trip and the new throw blanket in the guest room. But then, Journal, on the last day it happened. As I was placing the bear meat over the fire to make jerky, a noble owl swept down and sat atop my tipi. Its eyes were the color of the void in my heart, and the moonless night: pitch black. It stared at me, and through my fear, it managed to communicate with me.

"Aubrey, your existence is what you experience. You are not defined by the bottomless chasm that you do not and never will have. Life is futile. You know this. Do not waste it by wanting more, by wanting it all. Better men than you have devoted their life to this quest and failed. They died alone in their temples of gold with nothing but scavenging acquaintances by their side. Be better. Live."

The majestic stranger was a Northern Spotted Owl, a threatened species whose population numbers reside in the few thousands. I never thought I'd see one. As a lover of all things Strigine, I had reached my pinnacle. This was the best moment of my life. "Thank you," I mouthed, unable to force the words out. He soared down and landed next to me. An immediate bond formed. He let me adorn him with a custom-made owl-sized OVO shirt I keep for this very occasion. The shirt fit perfectly. The Wise Owl kowtowed at my feet. Before flying into the vacuity that is the forest at night, he said:

"Continue doing The Lord's work, Aubrey. Hoot Hoot. We are proud of what you have become. Hoot."

The next day I returned home. However, my good fortune was only to get better. As I fed mangrove leaves to the family of adopted manatees that occupy my garden pond, the doorbell rang. I answered the door to find a Fed-Ex delivery man. I groped the heavy package hoping to figure out what it was before opening it. I couldn't have imagined this in my wildest dreams: an entire case of 1947 Château Cheval Blanc— the greatest wine ever made. I wanted to Instagram it, but I couldn't bring myself to take the picture. This was private. This was for me. I self-identify with this wine. Described as a "happy accident of nature," the 1947 Château Cheval Blanc should not be what it is. The harvest's summer was extremely hot, and the grapes were almost all roasted on the vine. A product of stuck fermentation, the wine persisted… against all odds… to become a 14.4% ABV Bordeaux. LOL. Crazy right? I feel like this is my being in vino form. I shouldn't be the best rapper that ever lived. I am a product of a not ideal environment. I started from the bottom. But now I am here. I rose out of middle-class hardship to become a child actor and was able to turn that into a rap career. But it was tough growing up ya know? I am this wine; this wine is me. A happy accident. (Maybe my next tattoo? Or name of my next single?)

Filled with glee and the universal knowledge one can only acquire from talking with an animal in the forest, I retired to the garrett. I powered up my Macbook Air, eager to Facebook about my recent experience. I was amazed to find yet another heavenly gift in my Hotmail inbox.

MY ADOPTION OF THE BABY THAT TIMABLAND SAMPLED FROM "ARE YOU THAT SOMEBODY" THAT WAS ORIGINALLY USED IN PERREY AND KINGSLEY'S "COUNTDOWN AT 6." YES, HE IS OLDER THAN ME. 48 TO BE EXACT BUT ADULT ADOPTIONS ARE REAL THINGS AND I ADOPTED HIM AS MY UNCLE. HOW FREAKING FRACKING AWESOME IS THAT?!? OH MY BOSH.

I AM DONE WONDERING "WHAT ELSE?" EVERYTHING IS PERFECT.

FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE I DON'T FEEL AN OVERWHELMING URGE TO SEEK. I AM CONTENT.

Just kidding. April Fool's, Journal. Got you again, for the 16th year in a row.

:(

PS: One day… PPS: I'm out of Bagel Bites PPPS: Why do I even try?

Bauce Sauce may or may not run the @DrakeDoinThings Twitter account. He is on Twitter tweeting tweets - @BauceSauce