摘自 Bukowski

作者: party_pooper | 来源:发表于2018-01-27 19:35 被阅读0次

    - The first thing I remember is being under something. It was a table, I saw a table leg, I saw the legs of the people, and a portion of the tablecloth hanging down. It was dark under there, I liked being under there.

    - I was afraid. I wanted to sit alone in a room with the shades down. I feasted upon that. I was a crank. I was a lunatic. And Lydia was gone.

    - I disliked them all immediately, sitting ground acting clever and superior. They nullified each other. The worst thing for a writer is to know another writer, and worse than that, to know a number of other writers. Like flies on the same turd.

    - When I was clear of her I shoved it into second. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw her standing all alone in the moonlight, motionless in her blue negligee and panties. My gut began to twitch and roll. I felt ill, useless, sad. I was in love with her.

    - She ripped into her sandwich with a savagery, took large swallows of Coke, ate half a pickle in one bite and reached for a handful of potato chips.Passion, I thought, she has passion.

    - New affairs were exciting but they were also hard work. The first kiss, the first fuck had some drama. People were interesting at first. Then later, slowly but surely, all the flaws and madness would manifest themselves. I would become less and less to them; they would mean less an less to me.

    - When I came I felt it was in the face of everything decent, white sperm dripping down over the heads and souls of my dead parents. If I had been born a woman I would certainly have been a prostitute. Since I had been born a man, I craved women constantly, the lower the better. And yet women - good women - frightened me because they eventually wanted your soul, and what was left of mine, I wanted to keep. Basically, I craved prostitutes, base women, because they were deadly and hard and made no personal demands. Nothing was lost when thy left. Yet at the same time, I yearned for a gentle good woman, despite the overwhelming price. Either way, i was lost. A strong man would give up both. I wasn't strong. So I continued to struggle with women, with the idea of women. 

    - All we do is sleep and eat and lay around and make love. We're like slugs. Slug-love, I call it.

    27 Jan

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