📖 The Meaning of Life
What’s the point of all this? It’s a question that has followed us forever. We ask it at night, when silence weighs more than sleep. It rises in moments of sudden joy, or in the middle of life’s irritations, when everything starts to lose shape.
But is there really a meaning to be found? Or is meaning something we must build ourselves?
Some search for answers in religion, some in science, others in art. Some look for it in love, others in power, knowledge, money, or children. But none of these things, on their own, seem to be enough. Because meaning isn’t something you see — it’s a fluid vibration. A thread stretched between who we are and who we might become.
Maybe the meaning of life is simply to live — truly. To feel. To fall and get back up. To have the courage to say “I don’t know” and keep searching. To care for others. To leave something behind — even just a gesture, a sentence, a small trace in someone’s heart.
There’s no formula that works for everyone. But maybe that’s the point: to choose your own meaning, instead of waiting for someone to hand it to you. And if life has no pre-written meaning — if it’s just a blank page — maybe that’s not a curse. Maybe it’s freedom.
⏳ When Meaning Slips Away
And yet there are days when meaning slips through your fingers like water. You look in the mirror and absentmindedly recognize who is looking at your face. You wander the hallways of a vast, silent, maybe indifferent universe and start wondering if it’s all been a big misunderstanding.
Sometimes life really does feel like a maze where someone removed the “Exit” sign.
In those moments, the question “What’s the meaning of life?” becomes background noise. Not because we stop wanting an answer, but because we’re no longer sure the answer even exists — or whether the question itself ever did.
And then another question arises: If life has no meaning, why live it at all? Why collect money, choose a partner, plan a career, start a family, hope for joy? Why wage wars, sign treaties, study, fall in love? Why choose anything — anything at all — if no one really knows the reason?
And yet, people act. They march, work, love, argue, dream. As if there were an unspoken meaning behind it all. As if everything they do carries deep significance.
We seem like elegant, well-behaved zombies, convinced we know why we’re doing things. But do we really? Or are we just playing out a script we learned long ago — convinced that someone, somewhere, actually knows how the story goes?
🎭 Embracing the Absurd
It might sound paralyzing, but this confusion can open unexpected space. If no cosmic story assigns us a role, maybe we’re free to invent it. Maybe we can dwell inside the vertigo of meaninglessness like an artist stares into a blank canvas.
It means being filled with questions, without expecting immediate answers. It means allowing yourself the luxury of being incomplete, inconsistent, in progress. It means recognizing that the absence of some ultimate meaning doesn’t erase the smaller, everyday meanings: a coffee shared, a laugh, a song that resonates exactly where we needed it most.
Perhaps, then, real courage isn’t about finding the meaning of life, but about continuing to live even when we can’t see it. To look toward the horizon knowing there may never be a revelation — and still walk toward it.
❓ Open Questions for Readers
Have you ever felt like everything was meaningless? How did you move through that feeling?
Do you believe the meaning of life should be universal, or is it something each of us must create for ourselves?
If there were no prewritten purpose, what would you choose to do tomorrow that truly matters to you?
Do we act because we believe in the meaning of things — or simply out of habit, out of fear of the void?
What would happen if we all stopped pretending to know where we’re going?
Your questions, your stories, your moments of vertigo — maybe searching for meaning together, or accepting its absence, is already a way of finding it.
🕰️ Beyond the Script
It’s strange how much effort humanity has put into building structures, roles, rituals — as if, in the face of life’s chaos, the only way to stay sane were to pretend we know what we’re doing.
We dress a certain way, repeat automatic phrases, follow the ticking of the clock as if it were a vibrant judge. We go to work, book vacations, have children, pay taxes. We repeat gestures like magic formulas meant to protect us from the void.
But if beneath all these layers there’s no real foundation — no genuine why — what are these choreographies for?
Maybe we’ve become bureaucrats of nothing: experts at following a thousand rules, yet unable to say what any of them are for. Emotional machines who cry at a movie, then wake up the next day to follow a schedule full of obligations they don’t even desire.
We are free — and yet trapped inside a story no one really wrote. No one knows where it came from, no one knows where it’s going, but everyone recites it.
As if the mere act of questioning it were an unbearable threat.
⚠️ The Risk of Truly Living
Maybe that’s exactly the point: truly living is dangerous. It means questioning everything. It means saying “I don’t know” in front of parents, teachers, bosses, lovers. It means stopping — even just for a moment — and not acting. Not answering right away. Not choosing just for the sake of choosing. Not pretending to know.
But those who stop, who refuse to pretend, are seen as system errors. Someone who “doesn’t work.” Someone who needs to “get back on track,” “be productive again,” “do something with their life.” What if, instead, doing nothing was the only way to start truly being?
📽️ A Life Without a Plot
Maybe the most uncomfortable truth is that life has no plot. No beginning, middle and end like a song. Things just happen. Sometimes all at once, sometimes nothing for months. People appear, disappear, return. Pain arrives without explanation. Happiness too.
There is no external narrator telling us what it all means. And maybe that’s the real scandal of existence: there is no written meaning, only the chance to write it ourselves — knowing no one will ever confirm it for us.
🤔 Illusion or Truth?
Maybe the most radical choice isn’t between meaning and meaninglessness, but between illusion and truth. Do you want to keep telling yourself a comforting story, or would you rather see things as they are, even if that means walking in the dark?
The paradox is that the moment we stop searching for absolute answers, something much more real can emerge. More fragile, smaller, but ours. Maybe meaning isn’t an idea to understand, but an act to live: every gesture we choose to make despite having no guarantees.
😂 The Meaning of Life (Comic Version)
Maybe the meaning of life was there, but we lost it along with our odd socks. It’s somewhere, felted and forgotten, in the cosmic laundry basket. Meanwhile, we flail about: running, signing contracts, joining productivity webinars, and signing up for the gym… on Mondays.
We live like we’re on an escalator going down — but we keep running up. Every now and then someone yells, “Faster! We need to go faster!” And we, docile philosophical hamsters, speed up. No one stops to ask: “Excuse me, but where exactly are we going? And why is everyone wearing fancy pants to descend into the abyss?”
The funny thing is no one really wants to look confused. When someone asks “How’s it going?” the automatic answer is: “Good, you know… busy with stuff.” What stuff? No one knows. But it’s crucial to have things to think about. Inner emptiness can wait — right now, I have a live stream to catch.
Maybe the real meaning of life is this: pretending to have meaning. A grand carnival where everyone dresses up as functional, spiritual, ambitious people. But beneath the mask is cosmic panic. And beneath that panic, a slight itch on the elbow distracting us from asking “Why?”
And then there are the morning enthusiasts, smiling at 7:00 AM like they’ve just received the meaning of life via a famous courier. You look at them and think: either they’ve figured it all out… or they’ve just decided to ignore everything — with style.