Charles Bukowski – oh yes

Hundred and Seventy Five 10.11.16


Charles Bukowski
oh yes

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
too late.


Last night, I went to bed only a 6 years old boy, and woke up a man half scar half skin.. woke up as old as the first rain drop that fell on the earth. In the dark room where blinds were shut, bed sheets knew too much, pillows were manic from all they have sucked from my head my eyes sought something on the empty wall.. And I had to leave my house as soon as I can.. Put on my clothes, peed, washed my face, washed my head in the sink, brushed my teeth, fed the cat, look around for a second, and left. I think it must have taken me no more than 5 minutes from bed to street..There’s a feeling in me.. like a stream running down from the left side of my forehead all the way down to my shoulder, splitting like a delta to chest to my finger tips. My mustache is keep trying to tell me eyes are restless, my sleep has been all around the place..and I think I am scared of something.. it’s the fall.. death is lurking on street corners, leaves are committing suicide one by one, and wind is not that soft breeze on your hair anymore, it’s the public flogging of a totalitarian regime.. I am not scared, I feel as wild as a boar, as patient as a sea cliff, flames are speaking to me, and the nights, oh the nights I have faith in them and they know me… I am energized, eat well, feel well in this soul prison called body, laugh like a child, giggle often, but, still there’s something in me asking.. Are you scared? Well maybe.. scared as a man who will buy a one way ticket to a place that he has never been before, scared as a sixteen years old boy living in a studio apartment in Dubai. Scared as the feeling of touching your pocket and not feeling your keys. Am I scared? Maybe.. and maybe it’s just the melancholy of the fall and I have forgotten how to greet it alone…Come sit down friend, have a cup of tea with me, have smoke, what is it that you want to tell me? close your eyes.. lean your head on my chest, let us trust each other, without trust in our aloneness this long way to home will be unbearable.

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