A book about life having no meaning, but is worth living because of that.

I wish I could word this better, I’m so sorry this is a terrible title.

I’m looking for a book that acknowledges there is no meaning of life, no god, no spiritual stuff, and just shows humans as a speck of nothing in a wide, unfeeling universe. But also acknowledges this ultimately isn’t depressing, and that being alive day to day is a meaning in itself. Even without any grand meaning behind it all, everything is ok and worth living.

by arcadebee