it was another 3:45 a.m. in
east Hollywood
and the black sky came in like a
knife
and if you were alive you were
lucky
and if you were dead
you never knew
it.
Charles Bukowski
who said, “you’ve kept me going for two
years, it’s really amazing to meet you.”“thank you,” i answered, “but who’s
going to keep me going?”i’ve asked this question before and
all i ever get back is a gentle
smile.but it’s a good question.
they have no notion that i may consider
suicide several times a
week.they’ve read some of my books
and that’s enough for
them.but i only write that stuff,
i can’t read
it.—Charles Bukowski
(Source: herolawan)