bukowski

she slammed the door andwas gone.I looked at the closed doorand at the doorknoband strangelyI didn't feelalone.

The centuries are sprinkled with rare magicwith divine creatureswho help us get past the common and extraordinary ills that beset us

If you have the ability to love, love yourself first.

We don__ even ask happiness, just a little less pain.

I often stood in front of the mirror alone, wondering how ugly a person could get.

sometimes all we need to be able to continue aloneare the deadrattling the wallsthat close us in.

darkness falls upon Humanityand faces become terriblethingsthat wanted more than therewas.all our days are marked withunexpectedaffronts - somedisastrous, othersless sobut the process iswearing andcontinuous.attrition rules.most givewayleavingempty spaceswhere people shouldbe.and nowas we ready to self-destructthere is very little left tokillwhich makes the tragedyless and moremuch muchmore.

there's no clarity.there was never meant to be clarity.

there__ nothing todiscussthere__ nothing torememberthere__ nothing toforgetit__ sadand it__ notsadseems themost sensiblethinga person can doissitwith drink inhandas the wallswavetheir goodbyesmilesone comes throughit allwith a certain amount ofefficiency andbraverythenleavessome acceptthe possibility ofGodto help themgetthroughotherstake itstaight onand to theseI drink tonight.

I know that some nightin some bedroomsoonmy fingers willriftthroughsoft cleanhairsongs such as no radioplaysall sadness, grinninginto flow.

the gods seldomgivebut so quicklytake.

Whether I was a genius or not did not so much concern me as the fact that I simply did not want a part of anything. The animal-drive and energy of my fellow man amazed me: that a man could change tires all day long or drive an ice cream truck or run for Congress or cut into a man's guts in surgery or murder, this was all beyond me. I did not want to begin. I still don't. Any day I that I could cheat away from this system of living seemed a good victory for me.

it is so dark now with the sadness ofpeoplethey were tricked, they were taught to expect theultimate when nothing ispromisednow young girls weep alone in small roomsold men angrily swing their canes atvisions asladies comb their hair asants search for survivalhistory surrounds usand our livesslink awayinshame.

she wasn't veryinterestingbut few peopleare.

the price of creationis nevertoo high.the price of livingwith other peoplealwaysis.

the world is better withoutthem.only the plants and the animals aretrue comrades.I drink to them and withthem.

I feel no grief for being called somethingwhichI am not;in fact, it's enthralling, somehow, like a goodback rub

it does seemthe more we drinkthe better the wordsgo.