Back in the halcyon days of innocent youth (year 10) I stumbled upon a book called Nausea by French philosopher Jean Paul Sartre. Thus marked the birth of my existential crisis. Upon reading this seemingly harmless novel I was thrust into an unending pit of despair pondering over the absurdity of life. I would sit in class wondering how on earth everyone could carry on knowing death was imminent, and every single experience would be erased from our minds in the blink of an eye. Then I finished the novel and I like the protagonist realised that there are only two possible responses when you realise that essentially life is pointless. The first is to accept this fact and view everything as empty, meaningless and devoid of true reason. This response usually leads to madness and or depressions and or suicide. The second response is liberation. After accpeting the lack of meaning in life, you are free. Free from the worries of a future that will never come, free from pressure, fear, anxiety. You are free and can only pity those who care so much. I urge you to choose liberation as I have done.