Some people believe it means being happy. Some people find it in religion. Some people think it is in nature, all around us. Some people *know* it doesn’t exist, and we are doomed to spend our pitiful time in worthless agony and despair. But all those people are wrong. *I* have the true answer. I have found the meaning of life, the very question that drove men mad for centuries. Oh, those poor sad souls, from ancient Greek thinkers to Muslim prophets, they never had a chance.
According to Wikipedia, the meaning of life was invented somewhere between 1717 and 1720, whereupon Johann Sebastian Bach composed his Chaconne in D minor as part of his second violin partita. People were a bit skeptical first, but now there is absolutely no doubt: this piece is, de facto, bona fida, in vivo, cum laude, ad infinitum, the meaning of life.
Do you want to know how to win at life? If you are reading this, it’s probably a bit too late for you, you already developed too large of a gap, but maybe your offspring still have a chance. It goes something like this. You are born. You spend the first couple of years of your life acquiring motoric skill and the ability to control when you expel excrements (to a limited extent). You learn just enough mobility to use the mouse on the parent’s laptop, and just enough language to go to Youtube. From then on, it’s heaven on Earth.
All possible emotions are contained within this piece, of all possible magnitudes. All lifetime experiences collapse to a recurrent harmonic and contrapuntal rollercoaster of immense complexity. Close your eyes when the bow first touches the strings, and open them only when you feel the silence tremble. Let yourself die and be reborn, and when you are through, you will be all the stronger.