I never knew contentment untill a few days ago. To me it was a form of emotional ambivalence (a very pretentious form) that didn't allow people to decide if they were truly at peace or just too tortured to feel pain. I have a new lease on the way I percieve life, existence and other things alike, and I see that contentment is really a matter of choice, nothing more. It is not a compulsion or an obligation bound by the mores of societal demands. It really is as simple as choosing coffee with milk instead of 'as black as it gets' (I still prefer the latter though). If life is like art, then we can interpret its nuances as we would do with a masterpiece, or censure it as 'worthless crap'. Think about it.
Ps: I assure my readers, I am not under the influence of any questionable substances. I am genuinely at peace!