Charles Bukowski

Growing up I viewed poetry as saying something incredibly simple in a very complicated, (yet often beautiful) way. Sometime around turning 16, I read the poem Be Kind and discovered the opposite. So much truth, feeling and non-bullshit with so few words. It also spoke to my ongoing teen rebelry-phase of leaving the innocence of childhood and tasting the bitterness of growing up.

That was ten years ago (hope you don't need to do the math) and Bukowski has been with me in my book shelf and heart ever since.

The time I reached rock bottom after getting my heart crushed by my first love, I found that the poetry reading named Hostage was the only thing that could make me laugh for a good while. There was hope.

I also find comfort in being able to relate to someone on a level I am unable to with most people, even if it's only through reading his words.

I wouldn't consider myself fanatic, but I keep coming back to his books. Recently I also discovered the odd pleasure of the combination BBB - Bukowski, beer and a bathtub.

I'm not sure what I'm doing here or how I even ended up here in the first place, but I expect to find either interesting discussions or people. Guess I'm just curious.

I apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes - english is my second language.

/Kat