“Most men lead lives of quiet desperation …” or so some famous poet said. Does this apply to women as well or are they just pretty, but shallow, receptacles for our sperm, baby incubators, put on Earth to exacerbate the existential desperation of men?
Life is from beginning to end a festering cesspool of misery and injustice, occasionally and randomly intercepted by brief moments when the misery is felt less painful and we experience what we call “happiness”.
So why keep it up? Because if we don’t we won’t get to the next instance of happiness. And then we die.