Basically, that's why I wrote: to save my ass, to save my ass from the madhouse, from the streets, from myself.
Charles BukowskiA man needed somebody. There wasn't anybody around, so you had to make up somebody, make him up to be like a man should be. It wasn't make-believe or cheating. The other way was make-believe and cheating: living your life without a man like him around.
Charles Bukowskiterror finally becomes almost bearable but never quite terror creeps like a cat crawls like a cat across my mind
Charles Bukowski