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Bukowsky, my father-substitute


...Nobody could help ya!...

While I was a fatherless boy, I did not know who to adress questions so typical in a teenager, about girls, the meaning of life, death, or loneliness…
With colleagues I used to have speeches not dwelling any important issue that was not music, to rool a joint, or jerk-off. But, for some reason, I sought a wisdom figure who could serve as an oracle.

At that time I liked Edgar Allan Poe, Boudelaire, Hesse, Kerouack, and other “beatnik” of the same style. I could not draw many responses from these people, though, too abstract to solve my day by day.
Until finally, at the home of a friend, I met “Histories of ordinary madness.” Since then, I devoured the entire Bukowsky production: “Diary of a madman”, “Post-office,” “Women” and so on. I had finally found a true Father Replacement.

Buk undeniably casted some light on the lie that surrounded us. I plunged in his wild waves of acid and hyper-realistic prose. It made me feel better, and worse at the same time. Thanks to him it seemed I have found some fragment of truth.

Obviously there was some collateral effect: whenever I was with “Daddy Charles”, I entered an uncontrollable alcoholic thirst.
One night, after reading “Factotum” at once. Eating a little and drinking too much. I turned on the TV. There where Boxing: Sugar Leonard and Marvin Hagler.
The fight was a bomb. I ended up with a bottle of whiskey. Then I got up, because I thought I should put something in the stomach, and I fell on my face, bounced off the ground with my fucking big head. And I remained there for what was left of the night. In pure Bukowsky fashion.
My education was going very well. Approved with an outstanding.

The next day I woke up with swollen cheekbone, cracked lips, and two dancing teeth.
On the street a colleague asked, tapping the index to my face, “Hey Luca, what happened?”.
“I fought Marvin Hagler.” I replied.
“No shit, and who won?”.
“Leonard” I said, massaging the lips.
“Sugar Ray Leonard.” I confirmed. “TKO”.

The Genius Of The Crowd by Charles Bukowski

There is enough treachery, hatred violence absurdity in the average human being / to supply any given army on any given day / and the best at murder are those who preach against it / and the best at hate are those who preach love / and the best at war finally are those who preach peace. Those who preach god, need god / those who preach peace do not have peace / those who preach peace do not have love / beware the preachers / beware the knowers / beware those who are always reading books / beware those who either detest poverty / or are proud of it / beware those quick to praise / for they need praise in return / beware those who are quick to censor / they are afraid of what they do not know / beware those who seek constant crowds for / they are nothing alone / beware the average man the average woman / beware their love, their love is average / seeks average / but there is genius in their hatred / there is enough genius in their hatred to kill you / to kill anybody / not wanting solitude / not understanding solitude / they will attempt to destroy anything / that differs from their own / not being able to create art / they will not understand art / they will consider their failure as creators / only as a failure of the world / not being able to love fully / they will not believe your love is complete / and then they will hate you / and their hatred will be perfect / like a shining diamond / like a knife / like a mountain / like a tiger / like hemlock / their finest art.

Categories: The Contorsionist
  1. none_0
    May 18, 2012 at 6:29 pm

    Reblogged this on The Contortionist.

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