Accept it: there isn't- there never was- anything grand or meaningful about life. To go on, we need to invent meanings, justifications, theories. You've heard this one before, and it's got nothing to do with pessimism. Pessimism only exists in relation to optimism, which is to say, they're both just ways of seeing the world, your choice of coloured lenses. None is closer to the truth, if such a thing exists.

What if it doesn't? Do we create reality by imagining it? What happens when our fantasies clash? You paint the world green, I paint it red, till someone comes along and covers it with graffiti. How much re-designing can it take before collapsing? Will we ever run out of paint or, even worse, ideas? And what happens if you're colourblind- do you remain forever trapped in a black and white universe?