What is the meaning of life?
That it is completely, and wholly absurd and is experienced only to frustrate and fluster; making sense of things only meant to be sensible indefinitely.
It has no more or less merit than what we give it, and without ego, and without selfishness; the foundations, yet plagues of humanity; we would have nothing to live for.
The progress that is oscillated by the varying constants of confliction in all situations of our reality…
The malice that manifests within the nature of man as well as in itself in such a way this implies; with the successive self-reflections, do we find even an eeriness yet?!
~Devin Clary, 17, Student at UNLV
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