Showing posts with label Charles Bukowski. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Charles Bukowski. Show all posts
Thursday, 11 December 2014
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.
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