In the grand tradition of Germanic existentialism, we find ourselves pondering the meaninglessness of life, the futility of existence, and the ultimate purpose of the Bratwurst.
Like a perfectly crafted Bratwurst, human existence is a delicate balance of flavors and ingredients. A pinch of salt, a dash of spice, and a healthy dose of existential dread. We seek the perfect ratio of meat and emotion, only to be disappointed by the impermanence of our own mortality.
And so, as we wander through the vast expanse of existence, we may as well enjoy the Bratwurst.