/lit/ - Literature

>nothing will ever be as great as Christianity
>nothing to pour my mindless devotion and fanaticism in
>spend hours at the gym
>spend hours at the library
>nothing to fight
>nothing worth dying for

This jaded feeling, when you're the drunkest guy in this bourgeois leftist party, sitting on the couch between two hot girls who are way richer, yet way dumber than you.

This moment of intense clarity and contemplation where you reflect on the absurdity of things others still find meaning in.

Someone hands a joint to you, and you decline, because you know you had too much tonight, you don't even smoke, yet you can't bring yourself to get up and do something, you are embedded in this couch that smells kinda like cat piss -- is there even a cat here ?

Another someone plays the same Pink Floyd song you heard a dozen times this year, and you wonder where you can find something new and beautiful, as you remember you will be late at the church tomorrow morning.

You wonder why you're such an asshole, and you wonder why you like those parties so much.

>>6639917

>>6632955

They raze early and rude; in the park near my block
I was told they would intrude only to build a parking lot

Summer morning, shining metal, prostitutes and sirens
are calling under the bridge; where the open locks have fallen.
And if I gaze at mirror under the mud, watery,
I might see an impostor that isn't anything like me

Truly the city distorts all; in it's unholy grey vortex
Should I let myself sink whole, so I can see what comes next ?