I once lay in a white hospital for the dying and the dying self, where some god pissed a rain of reason to make things grow only to die, where on my knees I prayed for LIGHT, I prayed for l*i*g*h*t, and praying crawled like a blind slug into the web where threads of wind stuck against my mind and I died of pity for Man, for myself, on a cross without nails, watching in fear as the pig belches in his sty, farts, blinks and eats.
Charles Bukowskithe free soul is rare, but you know it when you see it - basically because you feel good, very good, when you are near or with them.
Charles BukowskiI knew exactly what I was doing: I was doing nothing. because I knew there was nothing to do.
Charles Bukowskit was almost disappointing because it seemed when stress and madness were eliminated from my daily life there wasn't much left you could depend on.
Charles Bukowski