Hello people of culture. (1 Viewer)

Greetings people of culture and assorted low lifers.

Thanks for the invite.

I got handed a copy of Women around 92.

Promptly fell in love with the old bastard.

Bought a copy of Confessions of a Man instead of paying the rent.

The more Bukowski i read, the worse my life got.

Ended up having sex on a train platform and becoming homeless.

when my son was born i bought him a Bukowski onesie.

He refused to take off for about a year.

Eventually it didn't fit anymore and his arse was hanging out of it.

Once my son started reading Bukowski he also became homeless.

Then my mum and her neighbour.

I dont think anyone has joined this group since 2013.

They too are probably homeless.


It was all true except i was the only homeless one. The endless shitty jobs, ruthless women, nights in the local lock up. Mental illness, hunger, it sucked balls. Not fun. The fact Bukowski made it out was encouraging. But with zero talent, the experience lacked any redeeming qualities. The mental illness was the worst. Nothing compares. Reading Bukowski made things feel ok.
Definitely. His writing had a comforting effect and his humour was a light in the darkness He seemed to have this unspoken wisdom. He was an anti guru. He could find the honest truth within the complex mess of life.

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