“startling! such determination in the
dull and uninspired
and the copyists.
they never lose the fierce gratitude
for their uneventfulness,
nor do they forget to laugh
at the wit of slugs;
as a study in diluted senses
they'd make any pharaoh
cough up his beans;
in music they prefer the monotony of
dripping faucets;
in love and sex they prefer each other
and therefore compound the
problem;
the energy with which they propel their
uselessness
(without any self-doubt)
toward worthless goals
is as magnificent as
cow shit.
they produce novels, children, death,
freeways, cities, wars, wealth, poverty, politicians
and total areas of grandiose waste;
it's as if the whole world is wrapped in dirty
bandages.
it's best to take walks late at
night.
it's best to do your business only on
Mondays and
Tuesdays.
it's best to sit in a small room
with the shades down
and
wait.
the strongest men are the fewest
and the strongest women die alone
too.”
―
Charles Bukowski,
The People Look Like Flowers at Last
