I suppose that within himself, the fact that he understood his lack of significance made him feel unique. He thought that because he knew he was just like everyone else, he was so unimportant, so mundane, that his self-awareness was significant enough to distinguish himself from others. I think the irony was not something he completely understood, let alone explain. Nonetheless, he lived each day as they were, and only as they were. Each day was not a gift, not an opportunity, but the current place and time he was biologically forced to exist at. The things he valued in life survived, and that’s how he determined what action he would do next. He was truly selfish, in the best way that selfishness exists, doing what was right for him, while understanding the effects his actions had on other people, and trying to find the threshold in which his selfishness hindered him.
Perhaps the ignorance of understanding the lack of meaning in life could make him a pessimist, or more likely, just an asshole, but that was fine to him. His life was his own, and only his own. When the road before him presented two paths, he always took the right one, not for any other reason than that’s where he wanted to go.