The Delightful Charles Bukowski

The Delightful Charles Bukowski

How I have not come across or even heard of Charles Bukowski is almost a sin.

 

I came to watch Beautiful Creatures by chance; well, I asked around for The Purge at work and got given it plus an additional three unknown movies, of which one happened to be Beautiful Creatures, and so decided to give it a chance.

 

Oh what a pleasant surprise indeed!

 

Not only did I enjoy the movie – a bit of fantasy, something I’d never dream of watching – but I discovered a writer that moved me!

 

Charles Bukowski

 

“I hate people! Do you hate people?”

“No, I just feel better when they are not around.”

 

 

I didn’t like the eight-hour job. I didn’t even like the four hour job, even though I couldn’t get one.

 

We’re all going to die, all of us, what a circus! That alone should make us love each other but it doesn’t. We are terrorized and flattened by trivialities, we are eaten up by nothing.

 

Some people never go crazy. What truly horrible lives they must lead.

 

If you’re going to try, go all the way. Otherwise, don’t even start. This could mean losing girlfriends, wives, relatives and maybe even your mind. It could mean not eating for three or four days. It could mean freezing on a park bench. It could mean jail. It could mean derision. It could mean mockery – isolation. Isolation is the gift. All the others are a test of your endurance, of how much you really want to do it. And, you’ll do it, despite rejection and the worst odds. And it will be better than anything else you can imagine. If you’re going to try, go all the way. There is no other feeling like that. You will be alone with the gods, and the nights will flame with fire. You will ride life straight to perfect laughter. It’s the only good fight there is.

 

There are worse things than being alone but it often takes decades to realize this and most often when you do it’s too late and there’s nothing worse than too late.

 

Boring damned people. All over the earth. Propagating more boring damned people. What a horror show. The earth swarmed with them.

 

The problem with the world is that the intelligent people are full of doubts, while the stupid ones are full of confidence.

 

Of course it’s possible to love a human being if you don’t know them too well.

 

Nothing was ever in tune. People just blindly grabbed at whatever there was: communism, health foods, zen, surfing, ballet, hypnotism, group encounters, orgies, biking, herbs, Catholicism, weight-lifting, travel, withdrawal, vegetarianism, India, painting, writing, sculpting, composing, conducting, backpacking, yoga, copulating, gambling, drinking, hanging around, frozen yogurt, Beethoven, Back, Buddha, Christ, TM, H, carrot juice, suicide, handmade suits, jet travel, New York City, and then it all evaporated and fell apart. People had to find things to do while waiting to die. I guess it was nice to have a choice.

 

There’s nothing to mourn about death any more than there is to mourn about the growing of a flower. What is terrible is not death but the lives people live or don’t live up until their death. They don’t honor their own lives, they piss on their lives. They shit them away. Dumb fuckers. They concentrate too much on fucking, movies, money, family, fucking. Their minds are full of cotton. They swallow God without thinking, they swallow country without thinking. Soon they forget how to think, they let others think for them. Their brains are stuffed with cotton. They look ugly, they talk ugly, they walk ugly. Play them the great music of the centuries and they can’t hear it. Most people’s deaths are a sham. There’s nothing left to die.

 

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