Don't be tricked by the big title. Maybe it should say "the lack of meaning of life".
Thinking about the meaning of life is one of my favorite day-dreaming topics. Thinking is fun and painful. I can't bear the life without thinking, and too much thinking also hurts. Thinking about the meaning of life, I realized that without thinking, there's no meaning; but with too much thinking, there's no life. Learning to think is an ability. But learning to STOP thinking is the wisdom.
The search for truth is like flying toward the sun: the closer you get, the more pain you have to endure. When you reached the truth, you are gone, just like when you reach the sun, you are cooked.
The beauty of life lies in vagueness, but truth is naked and usually ugly. I want to see truth, and I also long for beauty. Can I get both? Or we humans don't deserve either?
The stage of blank-mindedness is like lost innocence. Once you start thinking, it is impossible to stop. Once you see the truth, it is impossible to go back to self-deception. But what if some people prefer self-deception (because it is easier to live with self-deception than to live with truth)? Is there still a devil making offers to buy back the truth from you?
What's so good about the truth anyway? Does it make you happier? Not necessarily, and it usually makes you more troubled because now you are asking questions without an answer. Maybe this process of questioning is the meaning of life. Then, in the end, why are you searching for a meaning of life?
Do happy idiots know that they are happy?