"How can life have any meaning in such a giant universe?"
This is a public domain opinion held by most Bad Deep Guys, ages 17-23. It is often accompanied by American Spirit smoke, a scarf fatter than a boa constrictor, and a Nintendo shirt (because even in a giant universe, it is still important to romanticize Mike Tyson's Punch-Out).
Here's the thing, Son of Sartre; once you decide that existence has no meaning, why would the size of the universe matter? Big or small, the universe is still chaotic, random, and amoral (at least when viewed through the human prism).
If the universe were the size of Delaware, your existence would still be an impersonal accident. And something tells me you would still find a way to be a Bad Deep Guy: "How can life any meaning in such a cramped universe?"
If you decide that scale does matter, it would be easier to argue that given how enormous the universe is, and how rarely the necessary infrastructure for life seems to occur, the strange fact that Earth has life at least makes us unusual. You know, limited edition.
So, Bad Deep Guy, why are you here?
I ask myself the same thing each time you open your mouth.