If you were to ask an existentialist, "what is the meaning of life?" they might say something like, "I'm not sure what the real meaning is, but there has to be one; why else would we be put here?". If you were to ask me, or another pessimistic existentialist, I'd say, "There is none. I don't know if our creation was a mistake that was too big to fix, or a joke that was too funny to stop, but there's no real meaning to our existence". And that's the sad, sad truth. At least in my perspective.
Humans make human lives out to be something amazing; and I suppose in a sad way they are. We don't know who or what put us here, or why. So we just keep doing the same thing over and over again, hoping we're doing it right. Maybe at one point we were doing it right, but that would have been a long, long time ago. Somewhere along the way, humans changed. As our bodies evolved to survive, our minds devo