Life is not only full of sound and fury. It also has butterflies, flowers, art.
To begin with, our perception of the world is deformed, incomplete. Then our memory is selective.
For me, the big chore is always the same: how to begin a sentence, how to continue it, how to complete it.
There is no such thing as a 'real' representation of 'reality.' Except, perhaps, in algebraic formulae.
In general, I distrust philosophy. Plato recommended chasing poets from the city; the 'great' Heidegger was a Nazi; Lukacs was a communist; and J. P. Sartre wrote: 'Any anti-communist is a dog.'
