Wednesday, September 19, 2018

Only few know this secret...

... there isn't one!

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.

There is so much that you can learn from Charles Bukowski. He was an alcoholic, a heavy drinker, a smoker. He used to gamble a lot and he loved women so much that he spent all his money on them and of course the booze. He was a writer too.

If you have never read anything from him, you're probably thinking what the fuck, he's the last person you would ever look to learn anything but I am telling you, he is the perfect place to start learning about life.

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. 

Bukowski didn’t give a fuck about his success as a writer. Even when he was famous, he still read his poetry hammered. He still tried to sleep with every woman he could find. Fame and success didn't make him a better person. He was not any happier then before...


I don't like positive expectations such as be happier, be richer, be smarter, faster, more popular, more productive, be healthier, sexier ... I despise commercials about happy families... you know, like a husband kissing his selfie-ready spouse in the morning... a breakfast, eggs and pancakes with kids and orange juice, newspapers and coffee...

But when you stop and really look such advertisements and then look around yourself, this positive and happy stuff you see all the time is actually attention on what you don't have. It gives you feeling that you are a loser, you perceive your shortcomings and you clearly see your failures. You stand in front of the mirror and repeat bullshit affirmations fooling yourself with wishful thinking.

Ironically, this fixation on the positive is the cause of your suffering. Fuck it! Focusing on what you lack will not improve your happiness, happy person does not feel the need to stand in front of a mirror and repeat that he’s happy.

TV commercials want you to believe that the key to a good life is a nicer job, bigger house, bigger car, a prettier girlfriend, a fucking hot tub with a fucking trampoline for the kids. This society is constantly telling you that to be happy you need more, more and more — buy more, work more, own more, eat more, shit more, fuck more...

You are constantly bombarded with messages to care about your appearance, your wealth, retirement, kids, job... take care about everything, all the time. Have a better vacation than your coworkers, a newer lawn machine from your neighbor and have a longer fucking selfie stick!

And of course... disappointment comes into your life. It is a natural consequence of your way of living, like it is natural for a fox to sometimes eat a rabbit. You get pissed off at the stupidest, simple stuff, and you have no idea why.

If you find yourself giving too much attention about trivial shit that bothers you such as how many likes your new Facebook picture have or how quickly the batteries of your phone die or why did you miss that wonderful sale, why your favorite soccer team lost the game and similar shit... well, you don't have much going on in your life. And that’s your real problem, not the Facebook picture, not the phone, neither the sale nor the fucking soccer game.

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