Poor Babies

Today post is dedicated to the great inspirational pessimist Charles Bukowski. It is a post of his quotes I like the most with the photos of this Saturday, April 15, 2023... 

Poor Babies

Before I get to the Bukowski quotes, let me tell you a story about poor babies. We are all poor babies.

My entire life journey has led me to this very moment in time. I finally arrived to a place where I am okay with the truth.

And the truth is simple. 

We are idiots. Like robots; programmed by this wonderful society. So common, so weak. Masturbatory. 

We lack the energy to see our real situation. 

We're too busy holding onto Mommy's hand. Thinking how wonderful we are, how sensitive, how unique. We are not unique! The scenarios of our lives have already been written by others. 

We may know this but we don't care. Fuck it, we say. We are the ultimate cynics. That's how we live! In a deep warm shit. What have they done to us? 

But do we have a choice?

You see, it's warm in this shit. We don't want to leave, we hate to be cold. And we worry, oooh, how we worry, twenty-six hours a day! And what do you think we worry about?... About me! What about me? What's in this shit for me? What's gonna happen to me? 

Such egomania! So horrendous. But fascinating!

We are just like a greedy ape who reaches through an opening for a seed and cannot relinquish control, nothing will make him drop that seed. The hand will cling even after you hack off the arm, so we too, we die holding onto shit. 

But why? 

Because we are all poor babies. 

We love Jesus who is bleeding, nailed to the cross. That's our symbol. No one's interested in the Christ who was resurrected and ascended. We want to be losers; we don't want to succeed. Listen our popular songs. Turn on the television and listen to the talk shows: poor babies to the end. 

Poor babies, praying to the poor baby.

I like Charles Bukowski because he did not care what others think about him. He had guts to write what he wants. He hated Mickey Mouse and Disneyland and mass production and working conditions etc. etc. But he did not hate the life. His words expose wrong values of our society.

In the praise of Charles Bukowski

I was drawn to all the wrong things: I liked to drink, I was lazy, I didn't have a god, politics, ideas, ideals. I was settled into nothingness; a kind of non-being, and I accepted it. I didn't make for an interesting person. I didn't want to be interesting, it was too hard. 

What I really wanted was only a soft, hazy space to live in, and to be left alone. On the other hand, when I got drunk I screamed, went crazy, got all out of hand. One kind of behavior didn't fit the other. I didn't care.

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.

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.

We waited and waited. All of us. Didn't the shrink know that waiting was one of the things that drove people crazy? 

People waited all their lives. They waited to live, they waited to die. They waited in line to buy toilet paper. 

They waited in line for money. And if they didn't have any money they waited in longer lines. 

You waited to go to sleep and then you waited to awaken. 

You waited to get married and you waited to get divorced. 

You waited for it to rain, you waited for it to stop. 

You waited to eat and then you waited to eat again. 

You waited in a shrink's office with a bunch of psychos and you wondered if you were one.