When you as a Life Artist see
the whole of the battlefield of life, not as an image, but as something you are
facing, and in fact are observing, then you ask yourself what it all is about.
Why do human beings continue
in this way until they die, without living or loving, but full of fear and
anxiety?
Albert Camus opens his book The Myth of Sisyphus, with saying, that
there only exists one real philosophical question, and that is the question
about the suicide.
Why do we not commit suicide
in a meaningless world devoid of both faith in reason and faith in God?
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