Showing posts with label Charles Bukowski. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Charles Bukowski. Show all posts

Wednesday, 26 March 2014

Charles Bukowski, Ham on Rye

I had no interests. I had no interest in anything. I had no idea how I was going to escape. At least the others had some taste for life. They seemed to understand something that I didn’t understand. Maybe I was lacking. It was possible. I often felt inferior. I just wanted to get away from them. But there was no place to go.