
She's trying to see a light through this existential dullness. Life wasn't favorable; on the contrary, it has bestowed on her death and suffering. Could it be God? But how? Has religion done nothing but lied?
Might be.
However, I got myself ridden of this idea. As Nietzsche famously put it: God is dead!
Hell! I'm sure I did.
Now what? What will I build my life on? How will I bear the burdens that Life throws at me if I don't have a solid framework on which I'll function? Am I being continuously thrown around on the basis of existential inertia?
It is absurd! I am absurd... I am The Absurd Hero... ceaselessly smiling in the face of suffering. Sisyphus is a Saint and I, his follower. I'll climb that rock regardless of how many times it'll get thrown back down. It is how I choose, it is my design.
Reading Suggestions:
Albert Camus, The Absurd Hero: https://stanfordfreedomproject.com/multi-media-essays-on-freedom/the-absurd-hero/
Friedrich Nietzsche: https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/nietzsche/