At this moment of time, I am thinking about how enormous our universe is, and how what we're doing here is so insignificant that, if the Earth were to just disappear today, nothing would be truly affected. Then, again, I see, how out in the vast cosmos of space, we seem to be the only planet to produce and sustain something truly unique. We are either something truly beautiful and rare, or we are a petty thing that the universe barely glosses over.
Maybe, we do have a higher meaning, and we should strive to reach at least something close to fulfilling that meaning. On the other hand, there is absolutely no meaning to our existence, and everything just stops mattering. To be honest, I don't trust anything that seems too solid or absolute like these two philosophies anymore.
This is why I really like Camus's philosophy. There is most likely no meaning to our existence. We are probably just a tiny-micro-spec in the meaningless scheme of it all. BUT. We must revolt against this and engage in finding a meaning in it all. I mean, it's kinda romantic and admirable. We still go forth even though it is futile.
Now, so what should be the meaning to our meaningless life be? Why not, love? I don't think you could go wrong with love. Love encompasses understanding, acceptance, tolerance, etc. Strive for love, do some self reflection more than a few times, and never stop growing. Really corny, but I think it is the true only thing that will quench our thirst for purpose... in a purposeless life.
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