“I was drawn to all the wrong things: I liked to drink, I was lazy, I didn’t have a god, politics, ideas, ideals. I was settled into nothingness; a kind of non-being, and I accepted it. I didn’t make for an interesting person. I didn’t want to be interesting, it was too hard. What I really wanted was only a soft, hazy space to live in, and to be left alone. On the other hand, when I got drunk I screamed, went crazy, got all out of hand. One kind of behavior didn’t fit the other. I didn’t care.”—Charles Bukowski, Women (via coffeeandphazon)
Man, every time I hear a song from Tragic Kingdom, I’m 14 years old again, and my best friend Jodi is living with me, and we’re in my room, writing stories and teasing each other about boys. It was both a horrendous and beautiful time. Such are the teenage years.