Why all the hassle?

I always prided myself on being pragmatic when it comes to social rituals. I don't celebrate birthdays or holidays. No social networks. Casual style unless coerced. Backpack. Several packs of identical clothes. Simple food, few recipes. Apartments that people describe as ascetic. 10+ years of low-drama open relationships. No pets, child-free. It is so much more straightforward this way.

Recently I watched a movie where significant series of events was caused by love triangle characters trying to pinpoint the location of a kiss on the timeline. Quite a trope, yet it felt singularly illogical and far-fetched. Why would such a trifle matter?

But the next thought was scary. What if I have been wrong all these years? What if all that hassle I skipped is essential for maintaining the illusion of the purpose? What if all these weird rules people impose upon themselves are what actually make life... alive?

This spring, I stumbled upon a thread from 2019 in which I argued about how one specific program should align its output. I remember my inner fire back then, but today I feel nothing. I still consider I was right, but it doesn't matter anymore. Nothing matters anymore.

And now, a difficult question. How to believe that anything matters if my whole life proves otherwise? I was trying to build a serenity but ended up in the void. That is unfortunate.