“If you’re going to try, go all the way. Otherwise, don’t even start. This could mean losing girlfriends, wives, relatives and maybe even your mind. It could mean not eating for three or four days. It could mean freezing on a park bench. It could mean jail. It could mean derision. It could mean mockery–isolation. Isolation is the gift. All the others are a test of your endurance, of how much you really want to do it. And, you’ll do it, despite rejection and the worst odds. And it will be better than anything else you can imagine. If you’re going to try, go all the way. There is no other feeling like that. You will be alone with the gods, and the nights will flame with fire. You will ride life straight to perfect laughter. It’s the only good fight there is.”
― Charles Bukowski, Factotum
Now, Charles Bukowski according to urban dictionary:
“An incredibly funny, Los Angeles writer known as “the prophet of skid row.” Bukowski published thousands of poems, hundreds of short stories, and six novels. His simple writing style is often imitated and centers on drinking, whores, and playing the horses. Bukowski spent many years drifting across the USA in a drunken haze, working crap jobs, fighting in bars, and living in flop houses. Later, he returned to LA, worked at the Post Office, played the horses, and started writing. He wrote the autobiographical movie “Barfly” staring Mickey Rourke and Faye Dunaway.
(Damn, someone on Urban Dictionary wrote all of that? Shit ain’t Wikipedia)
Anyway, the jist of it is; Charles Bukowski was a pretty rad dude, for those of you that don’t know; the patron saint of lowlifes and shitheads with poetic spirits. Happy birthday, my man.