This morning I woke up thinking, when we’re alive, so much of our time is spent on thinking about how we feel, what we do, but at the end, we’re ultimately going to die, right? Who made us? Why? What is the purpose? What’s the catch? Why do we feel? Or think? Or resent? Or believe? If life has a deeper meaning to it, how would anyone know? And if not, then does anything ever have a meaning?