Wait no. According to the numbers I've assigned to my posts it's the 42nd, but the total number of posts (including music posts and '*something* of the day' posts) is 55. Or 56, counting this one. Whatever.
This shall be another of Ali's life lessons. Her little old wizened mind stirs and gives you a precious lesson that can only be taught by a wise and knowledgeable person. I'm aware that I come off as a pretentious stuck-up adolescent who thinks she's all clever and that. That would be correct. The rest of this post is going to be all pretentious like. Sorry.
As you (should) know, 42 is the meaning of life (according to Douglas Adams, who wrote The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy). 42 is also my house number (stalkers, take note). 42 is the number of one of my many textbooks. OK, that's all there is to the number 42 that's related to me personally.
Perhaps, because of this special number, I should talk about the meaning of life. Not the meaning as in definition. You have the dictionary to find the meaning of life.
I'm talking about the meaning as in purpose of life. I know it. I have the answer, and I'm willing to share it with you.
The meaning of life is to find happiness. Think of the human existence. Essentially, we're born, we go to school to get qualifications in order to find a good job (that pays well or is satisfying, or both). We get jobs in order to earn money so we can live comfortably and afford luxuries, which in turn, make us happy (whoever said money can't buy happiness was a misguided idiot). All our lives we try to find that one person to love in order to feel happy and complete. It's all about being happy.
Unless of course, you're an emo. But then you feel happy in being sad, which is rather twisted, to be honest.