dawn

I turned on my YouTube feed the other day, I think it was because I was feeling lonely. Like uh, like I didn’t want to give up on humanity or some shit.

And the first video the algorithm fed me was this dude named Charles Bukowski, (hope I’m spelling that right ).

Kevin told me about this dude, and I had heard his name but I never once investigated the work.

This clip was about three minutes of a man talking.

(How interesting)

Yo.. check out the flow on this dude. Even beyond that, check out the “why”.

Crappy life, unsuccessful, saying lines like

” other writers realized that I was too dumb to steal”,,

Let’s just pretend that the soul is real, just for a second,,just for fun.

My soul got an erection.

Carefree and untethered.

The only thing that could make him cooler, is if no one knew his name.

Liquid stroll.

Not a frenetic hopscotch between thoughts, just a faucet. Just a pouring motion.

Be still my heart.

(He’s also an asshole)

I know!

Ticks all the boxes.

There’s a very small handful of people,when I see them, or when I see something specific in them..

Sigh…ugh…

I want to be like you.

That thing you do, I wish I could do that, but I wish I could do it like me and not like you.

He said he got really cranky, and depression set in, if he didn’t sit and pour out his shit.

There’s something there.

Kevin was right with this one.

There’s something about this guy.

(Now do it without being drunk and miserable)

Valid point.

Age old question.

“Would you, could you, suffer for what you do?”

Does it mean that much to you?

Would you do it if no one cared?

If no one gave a fuck?

What does it boil down to??

(Cue the Jeopardy theme)

Heart.

Inner child amazed by the June bugs and bumblebees, smelling honeysuckle and running barefoot.

(Talking about inner child is some gay shit, that’s some weak shit)

You’re some weak shit.

I’m talking about the makeup of a human’s personality, they’re easy to fuck around with and play games, IF you know that child.

(If you see it)

Feel like a sad turn??

(Please don’t)

That meth kid, at the gas station..

(I said please…)

No no no, I’m serious,, that meth kid picking his face, that off-putting slob of a human being on a terrible terrible path..

I see him.

I can see him as a child.

I can see him playing and laughing, and running with his dog.

I see that grown man as he was.

(So what happened?)

Good question.

Shit tons of variables, shiiit tons.

Maybe trauma, maybe he just fell in with the wrong crowd,, lots of variables..

(And it’s your place to save him?)

Fuck saving, let’s just start with seeing.

A junkie is a hard headed creature. ANd if he’s obsessively picking the flesh off his face???

Sigh…

Too far, perhaps too far

(For now)

Yea, he’s young…

What I CAN do, is be nice to him. Try to treat him like a person and not like he’s a meth addict working at a gas station.

(Bukowski makes me want to drink)

No Shit! Right?

Drink and just drag your dumb fingers across the keys?

Write a soliloquy to diarrhea?

I don’t think now is the time.

Got a few months away from it and that’s something,,substituting, but only for medication..

(Back to the question)

Alright….

Take a breath…

This is gonna sound super fuckin pretentious, so bear with me, alright??

“Would you,,,suffer for your art?”

And IS that what art is?

A physical manifestation of all your dumb shit?

Must it be digestible?

And can you pour out your heart without shame?

Can you?

(You shouldn’t intentionally irritate ppl and bait them)

You shouldn’t tell me what to do.

(Fair enough)….

I was really impressed with this Bukowski guy, really really impressed.

I honestly think he didn’t give a fuck.

Deep.

To the bone.

(Don’t steal)

No, not ever,, but his approach,,,ugh,, so pure.

(Bitches steal)

I know! Don’t you think I know?

I’m nobody, which allows me to be anybody…

Let’s talk about anal fissures.

(Let’s talk about abortion?)

Let’s talk about the Bible.

(Let’s talk about sports injuries?)

Let’s talk about human manipulation.

(Let’s talk about capitalism)

Let’s talk about optics..

(Let’s talk about elections)

Let’s talk about overpopulation down the road.

(Let’s talk about Thanos)

Let’s talk about a failed film franchise.

(Let’s talk about enjoyable source material)

Let’s talk about the End of the World.

(Let’s talk about the satanic panic)

Let’s talk about capitalizing Satan when you type it, have a little respect…

(There’s nobody else like you man,,)

And there’s nobody else like the rest of them, that comes with the whole “being alive” package..

(And it is good)

It is.

I lose sight.

Shamefully.

It is good.

(When you’re up)

Aye, say it true.

(Entertained ourselves to death)

Bitches steal.

Not the point, small IQ games.

The point.

If you can truthfully say “this is all I have”,,Then you have more than the rest. Leaps and bounds. More than you could ever need, sometimes more than you can even handle.

The statement is not a statement of poverty. It’s a statement of deep love.

This is all I have , and subsequently, fire flies from my fingertips.

Firefly fingertips.

Frenetic firefly fingertips.

Best wishes to those beneath.

You might get it in the next life, but this one is mine. Try.

I encourage you to continue trying.

It’s soups cutes.

Super fun to watch you try..

A gift to the funny bone.