/lit/ - Literature

>>12756913
This week, I had to attend an analytic talk organised by the college's philosophy society. Showing face was mandatory, in my case. It was so eye-wateringly boring that I excused myself, went to the bathroom and masturbated. As I was doing so it occurred to me that Bertrand Russell probably masturbated too, I think to fantasies of destroying Hegel with FACTS and LOGIC, or something similar.

Anyway, when I finished I didn't wash my hands and made sure to offer the lecturer a warm handshake at the talk's climax.

Now you'll rest forever,
worn-out heart. The ultimate illusion
that I thought was eternal died. It died.
I see not just the hope
but the desire for loved illusions
is done for us. Be still forever.
You have beaten long enough.
Nothing deserves your throbbing, nor is earth
worth sighing over. Life is merely
bitterness and boredom, and the world is filth.
Now be calm. Despair for the last time.
Death is one thing
fate gave our kind.
Disdain yourself now, nature, the brute
hidden power the rules to common harm,
and the boundless vanity of all.