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Long before I became 'rich and famous' I just sat round drinking wine and staring at the walls.

Charles Bukowski

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Charles Bukowski
Age: 73 †
Born: 1920
Born: August 16
Died: 1994
Died: March 9
Actor
Author
Autobiographer
Columnist
Diarist
Journalist
Novelist
Poet
Screenwriter
Writer
Henry Charles Bukowski
Buk
charles bukowski
Wine
Became
Sat
Wall
Walls
Rich
Staring
Long
Round
Rounds
Famous
Drinking

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I can never drive my car over a bridge without thinking of suicide. I can never look at a lake or an ocean without thinking of suicide.
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Sometimes I get too exhausted to even feel bad
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Why do we embroider everything we say with special emphasis when all we really need to do is simply say what needs to he said? Of course the fact is that there is very little that needs to be said.
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The male, for all his bravado and exploration, is the loyal one, the one who generally feels love. The female is skilled at betrayal and torture and damnation.
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The pest, in a sense, is a very superior being to us: he knows where to find us and how--usually in the bath or in sexual intercourse or asleep.
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But my whole life has been a matter of fighting for one simple hour to do what I want to do. There was always something getting in the way of my getting to myself.
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I am not like other people. I am burning in hell. The hell of myself.
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I had no Freedom. I had nothing.
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The world is full of boring, identical and mindless people.
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as the shadows assume shapes I fight the slow retreat now my once-promise dwindling dwindling now lighting new cigarettes pouring more drinks it has been a beautiful fight still is.
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well, death says, as he walks by, I'm going to get you anyhow no matter what you've been: writer, cab-driver, pimp, butcher, sky-diver, I'm going to get you
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Pretty words, as pretty women, wrinkle up and die.
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How are his poems? He's not as good as he thinks he is, but then most of us feel that way.
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Are you becoming what you've always hated?
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