Some of us have religion; we believe there is a meaning and purpose to our lives because the voices in our heads tell us this when we close our eyes.
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Some of us don’t have religion but we have philosophy, which is really just religion without the dogmatic ritual and genocidal exclusivity.
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Some of us have science, which attempts to explain our meaning and purpose by questioning our meaning and purpose and how we explain it.
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Some of us have drugs, which numb us until we’re dead and not worried about meaning and purpose.
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Some of us have materialism, which is a kind of drug.
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Some of us have cultural identity, which provides meaning and purpose through unsustainable levels of procreation.
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Some of us have none of the above, which provides an emptiness that’s as fulfilling as it is empty, a loneliness and isolation that are as honest as they are lonely and isolating, and a clarity that’s as tragic and terrifying as it is clear.