the last cigarettes are smoked, the loaves are sliced, and lest this be taken for wry sorrow, drown the spider in wine. you are much more than simply dead: I am a dish for your ashes, I am a fist for your vanished air. the most terrible thing about life is finding it gone.
Charles BukowskiI didn't feel that way about it. I had been playing with death for some time. I can't say we were the best of friends but we were well acquainted.
Charles Bukowski