In my childhood in a suburb, we had many curious toys available at the festivals. Most of them have been replaced by smartphones nowadays. One I can particularly remember well is an anthropomorphic balloon toy with no limbs. Created from a single piece of a long balloon with an indent to separate the head from the body, eyes made of paper, attached to a cardboard base with much mud to give some amount of weight.
No matter how you throw it, it will always land on its base.
It would keep landing on its base— perhaps for eternity if there were not a leak. But there is always a leak. The head would shrink, eventually the body too. The inevitable death of everything and obvious profit for the toymaker would defeat our childhood dreams of everlasting joy.
No, I'm not unhappy to grow out of my childhood dream of everlasting joy. I mourn for the extinction of all those simple and momentous joys, especially the ones you cannot find by an exhaustive Google search.