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I reached the conclusion long ago that life is essentially meaningless in and of itself and now accept that premise as fact. What separates me from the pessimist is, I've also decided that it doesn't matter that life has no meaning and have consequently stopped trying to find meaning in it or to ascribe meaning to it. So what keeps me going then? I suppose it's excessive curiosity more than anything else. I want to see whether the sum of all of my actions and their consequences, the long causal chain of events that is my life, will in the final analysis prove to have furthered the good or rather the evil. I do not consciously strive toward either.
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"America is not a young land. She is very old. Before the white man, before the Indian, the evil was there, waiting." - William Burroughs, The Naked Lunch
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