Recently, I found myself grappling with an unexpected emotional void. When I received the news about being offered a new job, I felt nothing, no happiness, no sadness, just a blank space. I was at my uncle’s house at the time and, for appearances, I smiled to signal joy. But deep down, I knew I was faking it. This realization led me down a path of introspection, tracing this feeling back to other milestones in my life, receiving my master’s degree, landing my first job, my first promotion, and even my second job offer. Each moment that should have brought excitement was instead met with this same void. Let's push it further the day I got my second job, I had this intense feeling of stabbing myself in the heart, and that was not the worst part, I thought if I stab myself, I would finally feel relieved. Relieved from what one might question? I don't know. It felt like I was not doing what my soul needed.
For context, it was only recently that I even opened the courier containing my master’s degree. Reflecting on this, I’ve come to realize that these moments, which society deems as significant achievements, feel disconnected from my inner sense of purpose. It’s as if I’m working for something artificial, striving toward goals misaligned with my soul. This dissonance is unsettling, as it suggests I am moving in a direction dictated by external expectations rather than internal truth. Yet, if you were to ask me what alignment would look like, I wouldn’t have an answer. I just know that this isn’t it.
A New Drive, A New Dilemma
Despite the emptiness, I’ve noticed a peculiar drive emerging. It’s not fueled by positivity or newfound purpose, but by a desire to achieve something more, to publish that paper, to write that tech blog on Medium, to release new music, or to produce that long-delayed music video. This motivation stems not from inspiration, but from a need to break away from my current path. It’s a paradoxical state of wanting to do something meaningful while feeling perpetually detached from the meaning itself.
For the first time in years of self-reflection, I’ve begun to wonder if there’s something wrong. It feels as though some internal systems have gone offline. This realization has made me consider seeking professional help, as it seems my mental framework needs calibration. But at the same time, I hold onto the belief that life is worth living. Dying feels like the coward’s way out, and I am grateful for what I have. This duality, between gratitude and detachment, makes navigating this state of being all the more complex.
The Philosophy of Pointlessness
Through this process, I’ve come to embrace a personal philosophy that life, in its essence, is inherently pointless. After some research, I discovered that this concept aligns with the philosophy of Existential Nihilism. I was surprised to find that I arrived at this worldview independently, without external influence. However, understanding this philosophy on a theoretical level is one thing; internalizing it is another. To truly embrace it requires dismantling each construct of meaning and purpose, which is no easy task. No matter the angle you choose, the conclusion remains the same: life has no inherent meaning.
Ironically, this realization has brought me a sense of peace. Accepting that life is inherently meaningless has made me more observant and appreciative of its beauty. I enjoy the small moments, the quirks of people, and the rhythm of existence. Yet, this acceptance coexists with a deeper knowledge that none of it truly matters.
Take relationships, for example. Will I have a wife and kids? Maybe. But if life is meaningless, one might ask, why bother? My answer is that it doesn’t matter if I have them, so I might as well choose to experience them. After all, this worldview itself could be flawed or biased. I’d rather not deny myself the possibility of family, only to later regret decisions based on potentially flawed beliefs. Opinions and perspectives evolve, and I’m open to the possibility that mine will too.
The Quest for Meaningful Work
This existential mindset has also made me question what I want to do with my life. If I must work, I’d rather pursue something that feels somewhat meaningful than settle for what feels like slavery to misaligned goals. On my deathbed, I want to reflect on a life spent striving toward something I thought was meaningful, even if it turned out to be an illusion. But this raises a challenging question: what do I find meaningful?
This duality, the desire to find purpose in a purposeless world, is a constant tension. I’m giving myself three years to explore and answer this question. If I fail to find clarity, I will simply accept what life offers and continue living a life devoid of inherent purpose. Perhaps this is the ultimate balance: to live with the knowledge that life is meaningless while striving to create personal meaning within it.