Crear arte significa estar terriblemente solo para siempre.
Charles BukowskiThe time came to put Iris Duarte back on the plane.
It was a morning flight which made it difficult. I was
used to rising at noon; it was a fine cure for hangovers
and would add 5 years to my life. I felt no sadness
while driving her to L.A. International. The sex had
been fine; there had been laughter. I could hardly
remember a more civilized time, neither of us making
any demands, yet there had been warmth, it had not
been without feeling, dead meat coupled with dead
meat. I detested that type of swinging, the Los
Angeles, Hollywood, Bel Air, Malibu, Laguna Beach
kind of sex. Strangers when you meet, strangers when
you part—a gymnasium of bodies namelessly
masturbating each other. People with no morals often
considered themselves more free, but mostly they
lacked the ability to feel or to love. So they became
swingers. The dead fucking the dead. There was no
gamble or humor in their game—it was corpse
fucking corpse. Morals were restrictive, but they were
grounded on human experience down through the
centuries. Some morals tended to keep people
slaves in factories, in churches and true to the State.
Other morals simply made good sense. It was like a
garden filled with poisoned fruit and good fruit. You
had to know which to pick and eat, which to leave
alone.
Tag: women morality sex fucking
I am a series of small victories and large defeats.
Charles BukowskiTag: life poetry victories defeats
I was like a turd that drew flies instead of like a flower that butterflies and bees desired. I wanted to live alone,I felt best being alone, cleaner,,,
Charles BukowskiTag: life-experience
Henry Chinaski", the principal said over the microphone. And I walked forward. There was no applause. The one kindly soul in the audience gave two or three clasps.
Charles BukowskiTag: life
I've watched snails climb over
ten foot walls and
vanish.
we
sat there
smoking
cigarettes
at
5
in the morning.
Tag: poem smoking we charles-bukowski 5-in-the-morning we-sat-there
I guess we often get the deep blues, both of us, and wonder what it all means- the people, the buildings, the day by day things, the waste of time, of ourselves.
Charles BukowskiMR. JONSTONE IS A FINE MAN!
Don't be silly. He's an obvious sadist, I said.
Tag: work bosses bastards company-man
It’s never quite right, all the things we are
taught, all the loves we chase, all the deaths we
die, all the lives we live.
« prima precedente
Pagina 97 di 98.
prossimo ultimo »
Data privacy
Imprint
Contact
Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.