“I was feeling unfulfilled and, frankly, rather crappy about everything. I wasn’t going anywhere and neither was the rest of the world. We were all just hanging around waiting to die and meanwhile doing little things to fill the space. Some of us weren’t even doing little things. We were vegetables. I was one of those.”

— Charles Bukowski. Pulp

  2:15 am  |   January 25 2012   |  50 notes