On Existence

Is there a set meaning for our existence?
Or do we live for ourselves by our own guidelines?
Should we rebel if we are fundamentally free?
Is our existence absurd or flawed,
and if so, why?
What drives us to seek out meaning
and everything that comes with it?
Is it loneliness, ignorance, desire?
All I know is that we set our own rules
for we can do so much more by thinking
than by following.