I struggle with existentialist issues sometimes and they resolve in the following ways:
1) I find meaning in art (i.e. what
suggested), in my case reading and writing.
2) I derive a morose satisfaction out of an image of a nameless grave getting covered by autumn leaves (I suppose romantics would approve, so literature still remains close). Or, in other words, I wallow in morbid meditations on the pointlessness of life.
3) I just trip out on the possibilities of life and death. This is where I don't actively disbelieve anything, and approach both with the curiosity of an explorer. What sort of awesome things can I experience in life? What bizarre unthinkable things could happen at death?
In my first year of university (mine was also an English degree), I took a module in philosophy with a naive expectation that I would find the *answers*. There were no answers, of course. So it seems to me that the pursuit of an ultimate truth is exciting, but likely pointless. Sometimes I still get immersed in it (e.g. when they were testing the Large Hadron Collider to see if it proves supersymmetry - boy, was that exciting).
At other times, I build my own meaning. You can look at the world and see chaos, or you can see brilliant patterns within the chaos. The hyper-rational approach abhorrs the latter, but the hyper-rational approach has its limitations (because truth often proves to be a mirage). I do things for the pleasure, joy and beauty of it. Call it magic - one can find magic in science (e.g. the aforementioned LHC event), art, relationships. It doesn't automatically turn you into a gruel-brained moron if you take an interest in something that is not purposeful, explained and delivered to you in a divine textbook. In fact, that's how most visionary scientists had their breakthroughs.
So, in short, creativity and curiosity, and the pleasure that arises from both : )