In a world where everything is meaningless, is the meaning of existence itself meaningless?
Or are we just too busy trying to find meaning to realize we're all just a bunch of atoms in space?
We may never know the answer, but the search itself is the journey, right?
Or is it just a bunch of words on a page written by a bunch of confused humans?
Maybe it's just a never-ending cycle of existential dread and existential crises?
Or maybe it's just a really long, boring meeting that you can't get out of?
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