by Mr. Mean-Spirited
Life either has meaning or it doesn’t.
If existence has no deeper meaning, then you might as well stop reading and go do whatever the hell you want. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if you go fuck yourself or go fuck the world over. It doesn’t make any difference.
If, however, reality does have some sort of significance, then that meaning may not necessarily be something that you would particularly like. The truth might not be something that you would ever want to hear.
The meaning of life may not be a good thing. The meaning of life may not be nice. If the meaning of life were “happiness,” then I would wager that your own life would be a lot happier. If the meaning of life were “joy,” then it would follow that your own existence would be a hell of a lot more joyful. The significance of life may not be “love” or “kindness” – or anything else that the mass media tells you. If the authorities tell you to focus on the “positive,” then the genuine meaning is going to be found in what the elite would rather that you not explore – the “negative.”
The meaning of life is going to be discovered in what the do-gooders tell to avoid. The meaning of life is going to be exactly that element of the human personality that everyone refuses to accept. The meaning of life is going to be discerned in precisely that part of the human psyche that no one wants to acknowledge. Meaning is always something that you are unable to face.
The meaning of life is malevolence. The meaning of life is malice. All you have is misery, my friend – and that misfortune is the solution to the question of a meaning to existence.
Human beings are on this planet for one reason and one reason only. We are here to hate.