Over the last few weeks, we have walked through a full spectrum of philosophical survival tools.
We started with optimism which is the idea that even in hard times, you can choose a forward looking mindset. Then we moved into existentialism, where meaning is not found, it is made. After that came Stoicism, with its focus on discipline and control over the self. And most recently, we landed in absurdism, the honest acceptance that life is full of contradictions, and the decision to live fully anyway.
But there is one more place we have to go. It is the shadow that follows all these other paths. The thing that creeps in when nothing works, when meaning slips through your hands, and when hope feels out of reach.
That place is nihilism.
What Is Nihilism?
Nihilism is the belief that life has no inherent meaning, no ultimate truth, and no real value. That nothing matters, not love, not art, not ambition, not even suffering. Everything is temporary. Everything fades. So what is the point?
It is a raw, unfiltered response to a world that often feels indifferent, and a culture that constantly overpromises and underdelivers.
While existentialism responds to this reality by saying “make your own meaning,” and absurdism says “embrace the contradiction,” nihilism leans all the way into the void.
It says, “No meaning? Fine. Then none of this matters.”
It is a dangerous kind of clarity. But it is also a real part of the human experience—especially for people who think deeply, feel intensely, and try to build things that are authentic in a world that often rewards the opposite.
When the Tools Stop Working
Nihilism usually shows up when the other philosophies fail to deliver what we hoped they would.
Optimism can feel naive.
Existentialism can feel exhausting.
Stoicism can feel cold.
Absurdism can feel like a loop with no resolution.
And in that moment of fatigue or disillusionment, nihilism slides in. Quiet at first. Then louder.
Why bother?
Why care?
Why create something that will fade, be forgotten, or misunderstood?
If you are a creative or an entrepreneur, you have probably had this moment. The release no one hears. The project that flops. The season where everything feels like noise. This is where nihilism lives.
And here is the truth: you are not weak or broken for feeling it. You are just being honest.
The Seduction of Giving Up
There is a strange comfort in nihilism. It removes pressure. It tells you that none of it matters, so you can stop trying. And for a while, that can feel like relief.
But that relief is a trap.
Because when you stop caring, you also stop connecting. You stop showing up for people. You stop making things. You stop living.
Nihilism flattens everything. It says your joy and your heartbreak and your hunger to build something meaningful are all illusions. It pretends that apathy is protection.
But in the long run, it is just another kind of suffering. One that numbs instead of heals.
What Comes After the Void?
Here is the thing nobody tells you. Sometimes you have to go through nihilism to get somewhere deeper.
Sometimes you have to let it all fall apart. You have to feel the weight of meaninglessness before you can build something real.
And when you come out the other side, if you stay with it long enough without giving in, you start to realize something simple.
Even if nothing is guaranteed, some things still matter to you.
A lyric that saved you.
A meal you shared.
A person who showed up when you thought no one would.
A project that felt true, even if no one saw it.
These moments are not logical answers. They are human answers. They are the roots of personal meaning. They are what you plant after the fire.
And sometimes, that is what comes after nihilism, not clarity, not certainty, but the quiet return of care.
Why I Wrote This
I will be honest. I am more of an optimist by nature.
I believe in second chances. In progress. In the power of showing up. I write because I believe words can move people. I create because I think it matters, even when it is hard to measure.
But I have also seen what it looks like when that light goes out for someone. When the meaning dries up. When caring feels like a weight instead of a gift.
I have sat with friends who could not find their way out of the fog. I have watched creatives who once burned bright slowly detach from their own work. I have seen what happens when the world becomes too loud, too heavy, too hollow.
That is why I wrote this. Not because I live in that space, but because I have deep respect for those who have. Because I think nihilism deserves to be named, not dismissed. And because I believe that even when someone says “nothing matters,” there is often something quiet underneath that still does.
This is for the ones who are still trying to believe again.
So let me ask you:
Have you ever had a brush with nihilism?
What brought you back?
What helped you keep going, even when nothing made sense?
I would love to hear your story. Drop a comment or reply.
And as always EVERY day is a celebration. Even the empty ones. Especially the ones you thought you would never get through.
Astro Joe Garcia
Nothing Else Matters - Metallica
If there is a song that echoes the emotional weight of nihilism and the fragile beauty that can emerge on the other side, it is Nothing Else Matters by Metallica. At first listen, it sounds like a love song, but beneath the surface, it is about what remains when everything else has fallen away. When the noise quiets, when the ambition fades, when the world does not make sense. The line “Never cared for what they do, never cared for what they know, but I know” hits like a quiet declaration of truth in a world that often feels empty. It is a reminder that even in the midst of numbness, there is still something to hold on to. Something that matters. And maybe that is the real response to nihilism—not finding all the answers, but finding that one thing you still care about, and letting it pull you back toward the light.