"Sometimes I’m tempted to believe life doesn’t mean any-thing at all. I’ve read philosophers who say meaningful experiences are purely subjective, and I understand why they believe that, because you can’t prove life and love and death are anything more than random happenings. But then you start thinking about some of the scenes you’ve lived, and if you've had a couple of drinks, they have a sentimental quality that gets you believing we are all poems coming out of the mud."
I have been re-reading "A million Miles in a thousand years" by Donald Miller while on the train.The book is about living a good story by living with purpose. Its beautifully written and funny.
In one chapter he says usually people who say "life has no meaning" really mean "my life has no meaning." And I liked that. I like that we can choose to wake up every day and some days fail, and some days crawl into bed defeated to go back to sleep, but deep down we know that, that one day doesn't define us. That we are the sum of all of our days and we keep going. we keep pushing, keep hoping, keep exploring, keep making mistakes, and keep fighting, and come out of the mud, poems- dedicated to the things and people we love. 
