Even IF you somehow manage to navigate today’s maze of failures, rejections and heartbreak, what is your reward? To live yet another day in misery? To wait until climate change, war or disease does away with us?

A reward would be to be able to rest. I don’t mean death per sé, but it seems like that’s the only real-life thing left available to people like us.

Yes, yes, I know very well that “if nothing has meaning, YOU get to choose the meaning”. Except I don’t. Maybe if I was rich or powerful. But I’m poor, in poor health and powerless.

I read Camus’ Sisiphus, and I, for one, cannot possibly imagine him happy.