I used to tell my writing students that they must write the books they wished they could come upon - because then the books they hungered and thirsted for would exist.
Isn't it the moment of most profound doubt that gives birth to new certainties? Perhaps hopelessness is the very soil that nourishes human hope; perhaps one could never find sense in life without first experiencing its absurdity.
As for death one gets used to it, even if it's only other people's death you get used to.