Bukowski is a man that got a good way of seeing into people, but had his own pathetic and disgusting opinion of what actually was the part of what himself. We had many more poets and writers that he is not up to their knees.
@@prntm926i personally feel it's not hopeful, rather it's cynical. It talks about your regular day to day people who blend in the crowd. Think about how many people you see on the road, sleeping in subways, working manual labour jobs who roam around dreamlessly. And they care for nothing and nothing cares for them. Those are the people Bukowski is referring to, all while talking about himself.
He's depressing, formulaic, dreary and dull. There is no particular way to read poetry, except the usual boring non-intuitive 1950's way. He has THAT... in spades.
@@Carlospenamusic1 I guess it does Carlos... but so does most of the junk from China work.... so does that dreadful acting from the 50's and 60's movie industry work..but is it original? Is it powerful? No. It's 2024, and we are copying that droning drawl from 100 years ago> We need to un-create droning poetry... and try to convey the entire message... Like this: ruclips.net/video/Lyr4c5rzDVQ/видео.html
First poem I ever cried at, resonates so deeply Specially the line “so so many, of my fellow creatures”. Just shows we’re all in this together, yet there’s so much pain in his voice. Amazing poem, amazing reading
@@jackdontcare2684 It is written in the description that it's read by Tom O' Bedlam. He voices a lot of poems and no wonder, what a magnificent voice.
I've read nearly all of Bukowski's work...and I still get a lump in my throat when I hear his poems....he was the real deal...the heart..and soul of the city....the street's voice. Bukowski's voice was the voice in the back of our minds....his perspicacity shines a light in the darkness of drudgery...he saw the beauty in simple things...the things bestowed upon people of destitution.
Same here... I actually read nearly all his work... in French when I was young. Now that I'm fluent in English, it's another experience. I'll read him all over again in English 😊👍
Dreamlessly, that's like someone for the first time described how people live, it is so sad and I feel this poem so deeply because almost everyone around me is this way. They feel no terror at not loving and at not being loved.
Sometimes I wish I could say "they live that way, they do those things..." but in the end I live the same way. Why do you write "they" instead of "we". Are you really different? And if so how? Thanks for the comment. Greetings
@@josuejeronimogarciagaray3164 I couldn't write "we" because I feel that terror. I want to love someone and I want to be loved. I am still young so for me it's kind of different, my life is still moving and I want to keep it that way. I'm not in that neverending routine - going to work, back home, raise children, household chores... - and I think that I will never be. I don't want to live like that. In the end, it's not even about doing all these things (work, children, etc.), we all have some kind of routine (and I don't judge anyone for theirs). It's about that dreams we all should have. It's about our thoughts and acts. (I want to read books, paint pictures, watch sun shining on flowers, talk with people about interesting things, have feelings for them. I think that most of the people forgot about all these little things that could make them smile and not just smile but really live once again. That's why I can't write that I am one of "them", I still have my dreams and I think that I would be nothing without them, (then I could write "we").)
So absolutely helpless and yet, I interpret it as him still managing to paint the beauty. Those lost souls aimlessly existing, within a system surrounded by beauty. He excludes the children, the flowers from those murdered. The innocence, the beauty. I feel bukowski always managed to portray this juxtaposition like no other poet. Painting the black to the world, but as in this poem reminding himself of the innocence of children, the beauty of a flower. He was a pure heart, beaten up and trodden down, but inside even he knew he was a bluebird.
Is Tom still alive? I have more than 800 of his recordings from his Spoken Verse channel. Been so many years since his last upload but I still keep checking his channel.
A man out of time. More an observer than a writer. Beautiful eyes to observe, A beautiful mind with a tinge of insanity for the unique interpretation. Reading him was most of the end of my young adult life.
The poet laureate for the common man. The man was a genius with a unique point of view - an a unique way of expressing it. He also had a profound understanding of human nature.
I’ve listened to Bukowski for years and somehow I’m just getting to this poem. This is my favorite poem by him now. The sheer pain in his voice. It’s crazy because to other people, he was a drunk looser who had no life. But that is so not the case. His mind is something to be studied. So beautiful. How can someone feel this deeply and articulate it in such a way?
I love this modern poem as it puts into words a feeling I've hardly been able to describe. The fact that in our world people seem to be hypnotized or accepted to anesthetize themselves to get away from existancialism, the awareness that we are temporary, hold onto superficial things and 'forgot' love. I might have misunderstood or misinterpreted what Buckowsky wrote here but at first sight that was échos in my head when I hear it.
I feel like this is the bitter sweet feeling of life that I felt early as a child (and it was rough at times) but had the imagination to burn it in a different way and try to escape it . That was my magic and I waited for it. Now I reach back for it. May god forgive me.
This hits to the core. I love the music by Max Richter, On the Nature of Daylight, also. This is maybe tied with the Laughing Heart as my all time favorites by Bukowski.
I’m 54 years old now and looking back on my life. It could be argued that it could’ve came out better than it did. At the time, I did the best I could with the knowledge I had and the tools that were at my disposal. There were a few small victories, but a lot defeats. I threw the ball as hard as I could, but I couldn’t get the prize. The dreams I had as a boy just didn’t turn out the way I hoped it would. Now at 54 almost 55 years old and haunted by what could’ve been with the strength I had. And as I look forward to the future, I feel I don’t have the strength to continue. The flame from youth is a flicker. And the possibilities seem very limited. It seems the last six years, the world has gotten a lot darker and a lot colder. I miss the young optimism my younger self had. I miss that young man’s hope for the future. I miss that young man’s naïvety of the world.
yet you still walk this path and better are we for it. this life is the win..nothing to lose. make new dreams, make the world warmer...the youngster is still there. charles gave up on something, maybe everything. he is not everyone
Oh man! it may sound trite but do vigorous exercise(start gradually. jujutsu if possible), eat broccoli sprouts, fast regularly, stop alcohol tabaco completely. I am not yet 50 but I am not that far and I feel as good if not better than when I was 18. about the world it is indeed dark and cold and full of zombies, but you do not have to be so! Do not look back, Look forward
@@jamesjasso6002 forget all that you cannot control and take control of what you can. to keep the mind is all we can hope for as things spiral. this is nice advice thankyou
I think this poem is about how in life we are taught to be positive and believe there is love in the world. This poem is about what Bukowski sees otherwise.
Mediocrity runs rampant. The potential of human consciousness reduced to simple desire is soul death, squandered beauty and development to stay in line. He separated children and flowers, the innocence and the beauty. The real tragedy is that every last dreamless was one child/dreamer. If you crave feeling over simple desires then be prepared to live a lonely life.
I have enough dreams to realize how often I do not. To realize how much applies to me, and how little I’m willing to change. There is no terror in complacency.
This poem has a similar theme to "The Crunch", which is also by Bukowski, (and sometimes referred to as 'People are not good"). In particular It reminds me of this part:-- "there are people so tired so strafed so mutilated by love or no love that buying a bargain can of tuna in a supermarket is their greatest moment their greatest victory" For me, it is like being punch drunk, in your life. A boxer knocked down too many times to get back up. When you have been stabbed in the back and betrayed too many times, to come back from. It is a sort of philosopical suicide inside, that follows on from the effective murder of your life. I think this poem also connects to "The Genius of the Crowd", which talks again about how people are not good to each other:- "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."
I understand how it feels to see that bored despair everywhere you look, but I'd rather hope that those people can smile again someday than wish they didn't exist. Cheers! RIP asshole, I still love everything you had to say.
I think what Charles is trying to get at here we are all living in some sort of fear one way or another it's about letting go of those fears and just being happy with what you have in life ,life is precious it's not all gloom and darkness.
I wish I could create an positive answer to this , that admidst the grey endlessness of the zombified cities there is hope and beauty. There are joyable little interactions , apart from all the fake smiles . Humanity , living in the moment, celebrating. Creating , thriving in rediscovering connection and relation. There is beauty , hidden gems. The world is full of wonder , but so many are asleep , closed , blinked. Forgotten to be themselves. It is each individuals choice to be part of the wonder and beauty or to be caged by the big monotone treadmill. Captured by beauty or captured by fake images ,fear , the frame of time, money or limitness. Examples are all around us. Are you willing ?
I do not understand why we have become such a cold society! We live such in a rush that we forget to be a helping hand for the most needed. We forget to look at the beautiful wonders of God's creation. I do not undesrstand why such in a rush if life is only one! Our time is so precious ,why not make good use of it. We walk in a rush and do not bother to see who is walking by are side. I do not understand why the older we get,the more forgotten!!! Is it the rush ? Is it the lack of love to mankind or is it that we have become cold hearted people? I just do understand that what is left of our life,should be a time to make changes that will make us a better person,one of pure love and loyalty to those who need us. Please do understand that we can make the difference if we do try!
The old addage of "if every part of your body hurts when you poke it, maybe it's your finger." Bukowski's perception of the world is a very sad and lonely one (makes sense with his life). He sees what he wants to, and what he wanted to was the sadness he felt as well.
I love this so much. I am so dreamlesy, so dead inside, like the fig tree jesus cursed. I feel this way because i have bipolar disorder. Life is so beautiful but this disorder is so perfect in killing my dreams, my hope and I can't take it anymore, I just can't, I tried so hard my fellow creatures . My gun is ready but I don't want to go, but I know I will loose. Health and love are the only true assets here in this world. We will meet again.
Just you thinking about all these inside prove that you're not dead not even close ,you are just blooming and if you are tired remember someday in the future we will be fine ,grateful for everything that passed and finally accepting our hearts fully without any fear.
“If you think you’ve lost your soul, you’ve still got a soul left to lose” -Bukowski A dreamless individual sees no beauty like you do. He only sees the surface level basics
"I have bipolar disorder, and it's the opposite of feeling dead inside. The intensity of life is so overwhelming that, at times, it makes you crave death because it becomes unbearable. But I feel that if managed well, it can be a more colorful adventure than that of anyone without bipolar disorder."
In this universe, it's as if the curse has already won. As everything becomes accustomed to this inferno, we try to invent tiny fragments of happiness.
Charles Bukowski is one of the finest, real and open soul to ever live.
fr man
Are you by chance, of college age and a male?
No way....he was human.
@@treesforzoe4655 I was about to say that he’s just like everyone else. Which is an interesting thought.
Bukowski is a man that got a good way of seeing into people, but had his own pathetic and disgusting opinion of what actually was the part of what himself. We had many more poets and writers that he is not up to their knees.
The older I get, the more I understand what Buk was talking about when he wrote this.
Me too
what do you think about it? I think its encouraging / hopefull
@@prntm926i personally feel it's not hopeful, rather it's cynical. It talks about your regular day to day people who blend in the crowd. Think about how many people you see on the road, sleeping in subways, working manual labour jobs who roam around dreamlessly. And they care for nothing and nothing cares for them. Those are the people Bukowski is referring to, all while talking about himself.
I feel this is one of his most powerful poems
It really is great. Ive never heard it before
I agree..
Pretty late responce, but the way I feel it... It hits so close to home, it's truly terrifying to feel so alone ans foreign
As do I
Try " the morning after i killed my self"
This narrator, who orates so many of his poems, and other great works, is a fcking gift to humanity.
It's not poetry, it's junk scribbling.
He's depressing, formulaic, dreary and dull. There is no particular way to read poetry, except the usual boring non-intuitive 1950's way. He has THAT... in spades.
it works @@Snordster
@@Carlospenamusic1 I guess it does Carlos... but so does most of the junk from China work.... so does that dreadful acting from the 50's and 60's movie industry work..but is it original? Is it powerful? No. It's 2024, and we are copying that droning drawl from 100 years ago>
We need to un-create droning poetry... and try to convey the entire message... Like this: ruclips.net/video/Lyr4c5rzDVQ/видео.html
It's Tom O'Bedlam. Fu*King Brilliant. 👍💯❤🙏
Never has such a sensitive soul been so deeply masked
I did not realize Bukowski is the greatest poet of our century. Wonderful. Real poetry, at last.
This drivel isn't poetry, read some real poetry and you'll realize what a fraud Bukowski was.
"Fellow creatures".
This is gonna stuck with me.
Beautiful poem so full of love.
First poem I ever cried at, resonates so deeply
Specially the line “so so many, of my fellow creatures”. Just shows we’re all in this together, yet there’s so much pain in his voice. Amazing poem, amazing reading
For me it was when I he couldn’t understand why the children and flowers do not murder them, felt that, like a wave
The same for me
This was most certainly not the voice of Charles Bukowski. He had a voice that reminded me a lot of Templeton, the rat, from Charlotte's Web.
@@jackdontcare2684 It is written in the description that it's read by Tom O' Bedlam. He voices a lot of poems and no wonder, what a magnificent voice.
I've read nearly all of Bukowski's work...and I still get a lump in my throat when I hear his poems....he was the real deal...the heart..and soul of the city....the street's voice. Bukowski's voice was the voice in the back of our minds....his perspicacity shines a light in the darkness of drudgery...he saw the beauty in simple things...the things bestowed upon people of destitution.
He also talked about writing pretensiously...
@@chrisyeomans5547 mate if you think Bukowski is pretentious then you missed the point
@@animeholic928 i'm commenting on how the first comment is written pretensiously. You missed my point. Mate.
@@chrisyeomans5547 Oh yeah totally haha I agree with you there!
Same here... I actually read nearly all his work... in French when I was young. Now that I'm fluent in English, it's another experience. I'll read him all over again in English 😊👍
Dreamlessly, that's like someone for the first time described how people live, it is so sad and I feel this poem so deeply because almost everyone around me is this way. They feel no terror at not loving and at not being loved.
hi
Sometimes when you are hurt so many times, something inside of you turns offs. Then your stuck in the dark and unable to find the switch to see again.
Sometimes I wish I could say "they live that way, they do those things..." but in the end I live the same way. Why do you write "they" instead of "we". Are you really different? And if so how? Thanks for the comment. Greetings
@@josuejeronimogarciagaray3164 I couldn't write "we" because I feel that terror. I want to love someone and I want to be loved. I am still young so for me it's kind of different, my life is still moving and I want to keep it that way. I'm not in that neverending routine - going to work, back home, raise children, household chores... - and I think that I will never be. I don't want to live like that. In the end, it's not even about doing all these things (work, children, etc.), we all have some kind of routine (and I don't judge anyone for theirs). It's about that dreams we all should have. It's about our thoughts and acts. (I want to read books, paint pictures, watch sun shining on flowers, talk with people about interesting things, have feelings for them. I think that most of the people forgot about all these little things that could make them smile and not just smile but really live once again. That's why I can't write that I am one of "them", I still have my dreams and I think that I would be nothing without them, (then I could write "we").)
@B J C
Did you drink from the cup of nihilism deeply or only a little
It requires profound understanding of life and one’s self to be able to write such poems.
Damn. Rich is the man who truly sees the beauty others can not.
We just survive, barely any of us truly live
We just keep breathing because it is expected
Most people yes..
Jesus Christ has offered you an eternity of love if you would only accept it.
So absolutely helpless and yet, I interpret it as him still managing to paint the beauty. Those lost souls aimlessly existing, within a system surrounded by beauty. He excludes the children, the flowers from those murdered. The innocence, the beauty. I feel bukowski always managed to portray this juxtaposition like no other poet. Painting the black to the world, but as in this poem reminding himself of the innocence of children, the beauty of a flower.
He was a pure heart, beaten up and trodden down, but inside even he knew he was a bluebird.
Your reading of Mr bukowski does him real credit. Thank you.
You are a bluebird too, my friend.
I love Tom O'Bedlam's voice. 🥺
is this voice tom’s?
Is Tom still alive? I have more than 800 of his recordings from his Spoken Verse channel. Been so many years since his last upload but I still keep checking his channel.
@@gehnamatlani yup,it’s mentioned in description…
Tom O'Bledlan is a character, but who is the man behind the voice in so many poems?
When he said of my fellow creatures the tears just fell out
it's the void in his voice that fills the mind.
A man out of time. More an observer than a writer.
Beautiful eyes to observe,
A beautiful mind with a tinge of insanity for the unique interpretation.
Reading him was most of the end of my young adult life.
The poet laureate for the common man.
The man was a genius with a unique point of view - an a unique way of expressing it.
He also had a profound understanding of human nature.
Charles Bukowski is one of the most raw writer ever
I’ve listened to Bukowski for years and somehow I’m just getting to this poem. This is my favorite poem by him now. The sheer pain in his voice. It’s crazy because to other people, he was a drunk looser who had no life. But that is so not the case. His mind is something to be studied. So beautiful. How can someone feel this deeply and articulate it in such a way?
I cannot thank our species enough for literature.. absolutely moving
Don't thank 'our species'.... thank artists like Charles Bukowski who make life worth living.
It's not our species, it's the one in a million that we need to thank.
I love this modern poem as it puts into words a feeling I've hardly been able to describe. The fact that in our world people seem to be hypnotized or accepted to anesthetize themselves to get away from existancialism, the awareness that we are temporary, hold onto superficial things and 'forgot' love.
I might have misunderstood or misinterpreted what Buckowsky wrote here but at first sight that was échos in my head when I hear it.
"That they care for nothing
And nothing cares for them" -
Tear dropped from my eyes there :')
His poetry really tugs at your heartstrings.
that they care for Nothing, pause, and that Nothing cares for them …then the drop of the beat
That was Brutal
3:09 "They feel no terror at not loving and at not being loved"
True masterpieces. The poem and the reading and the video.
I feel like this is the bitter sweet feeling of life that I felt early as a child (and it was rough at times) but had the imagination to burn it in a different way and try to escape it . That was my magic and I waited for it. Now I reach back for it. May god forgive me.
Your loved
This hits to the core. I love the music by Max Richter, On the Nature of Daylight, also. This is maybe tied with the Laughing Heart as my all time favorites by Bukowski.
Overused, by this point, this "Nature of Daylight."
Amazing music.
I feel this poem so deeply ... Charles Bukowski is a wonderful poet, I think it is his most powerful poem, let's not forget about it...
This is a masterpiece.
The greatest poet… ever.
I’m 54 years old now and looking back on my life. It could be argued that it could’ve came out better than it did. At the time, I did the best I could with the knowledge I had and the tools that were at my disposal. There were a few small victories, but a lot defeats. I threw the ball as hard as I could, but I couldn’t get the prize. The dreams I had as a boy just didn’t turn out the way I hoped it would. Now at 54 almost 55 years old and haunted by what could’ve been with the strength I had. And as I look forward to the future, I feel I don’t have the strength to continue. The flame from youth is a flicker. And the possibilities seem very limited. It seems the last six years, the world has gotten a lot darker and a lot colder. I miss the young optimism my younger self had. I miss that young man’s hope for the future. I miss that young man’s naïvety of the world.
yet you still walk this path and better are we for it. this life is the win..nothing to lose. make new dreams, make the world warmer...the youngster is still there. charles gave up on something, maybe everything. he is not everyone
Oh man! it may sound trite but do vigorous exercise(start gradually. jujutsu if possible), eat broccoli sprouts, fast regularly, stop alcohol tabaco completely. I am not yet 50 but I am not that far and I feel as good if not better than when I was 18. about the world it is indeed dark and cold and full of zombies, but you do not have to be so! Do not look back, Look forward
@@jamesjasso6002 forget all that you cannot control and take control of what you can. to keep the mind is all we can hope for as things spiral. this is nice advice thankyou
Yeah. I'm 48 and feelimg much the same way.
Only by virtue of real compassion can a person write like that
Almost brought me to tears this one, and, I never cry.
One of the most finest piece by Bukowski ❤️
This poem has moved so much, I have weep so much . the simple words and the deep meaning . which is going on this planet in a mass scale .
I'm in love with this vibe brought by this poem And the voice of the reader.
Intoxicated by the sheer rawness…
This poem is extremely heavy metal material🤘 Pierced right through my heart and mind!!
Beautiful. Wonderful reading, voice.
Thank you.
Great text. I didn't know this one before. The music, voice and pictures do add to it, I believe. Very well done!
I think this poem is about how in life we are taught to be positive and believe there is love in the world. This poem is about what Bukowski sees otherwise.
I found Charles late in life: Absolutely GENIUS 💯PERCENT . BROTHER JAMES 🙏
I’ve been failing to cry all day until this
This is best amongst the best poems of Bukowski...
I love his writing, so deeply thought out whether you agree completely or not the writing and narration is beautiful ❤️
The background music really fits this poem....so sad
Bukowisk foi um dos maiores escritores americanos do século passado. O poder da sua escrita é incomensurável.
God damnit he gets me every time!!
Hi 👋 how are you doing?
i don't know why
that this one is my favorite together with style
Mediocrity runs rampant. The potential of human consciousness reduced to simple desire is soul death, squandered beauty and development to stay in line. He separated children and flowers, the innocence and the beauty. The real tragedy is that every last dreamless was one child/dreamer. If you crave feeling over simple desires then be prepared to live a lonely life.
this poem makes me feel like the world has just stopped
I have enough dreams to realize how often I do not. To realize how much applies to me, and how little I’m willing to change. There is no terror in complacency.
A fan of Snordster, so obviously became an instant fan of you!
Glad this showed up in my YT suggestions...finally!
What a poem beautiful
Amazing video to the amazing story.
This poem has a similar theme to "The Crunch", which is also by Bukowski, (and sometimes referred to as 'People are not good").
In particular It reminds me of this part:--
"there are people so tired
so strafed
so mutilated by love or no
love
that buying a bargain can of tuna
in a supermarket
is their greatest moment
their greatest victory"
For me, it is like being punch drunk, in your life. A boxer knocked down too many times to get back up. When you have been stabbed in the back and betrayed too many times, to come back from. It is a sort of philosopical suicide inside, that follows on from the effective murder of your life. I think this poem also connects to "The Genius of the Crowd", which talks again about how people are not good to each other:-
"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."
Jesus. That was dark but so on point.
I understand how it feels to see that bored despair everywhere you look, but I'd rather hope that those people can smile again someday than wish they didn't exist. Cheers! RIP asshole,
I still love everything you had to say.
That last line is one of the most powerful I've read.
Loved the masked zombie pushing a trolley down the store aisle.
Was before his time. 2022 theme for life
To feel so unseen, and so alone, that the happiness of an innocent child murders your soul, because you know you’ll never feel that way again.
I think what Charles is trying to get at here we are all living in some sort of fear one way or another it's about letting go of those fears and just being happy with what you have in life ,life is precious it's not all gloom and darkness.
I wish I could create an positive answer to this , that admidst the grey endlessness of the zombified cities there is hope and beauty.
There are joyable little interactions , apart from all the fake smiles . Humanity , living in the moment, celebrating. Creating , thriving in rediscovering connection and relation.
There is beauty , hidden gems.
The world is full of wonder , but so many are asleep , closed , blinked. Forgotten to be themselves.
It is each individuals choice to be part of the wonder and beauty or to be caged by the big monotone treadmill.
Captured by beauty or captured by fake images ,fear , the frame of time, money or limitness.
Examples are all around us.
Are you willing ?
I love this poem so much
Awesome thank you
My utterly hopeless hero.... I both laugh & cry*
Good Lord this hurts
We may be loved, yet cannot feel it. Similarly, our love ricochets into a void.
I miss that terror I miss wanting needing and nothin available when I needed it and starved more than physically with food.
This man is better than my father my brother my mother ....
This man was a philosopher.
I do not understand why we have become such a cold society! We live such in a rush that we forget to be a helping hand for the most needed. We forget to look at the beautiful wonders of God's creation. I do not undesrstand why such in a rush if life is only one! Our time is so precious ,why not make good use of it. We walk in a rush and do not bother to see who is walking by are side. I do not understand why the older we get,the more forgotten!!! Is it the rush ? Is it the lack of love to mankind or is it that we have become cold hearted people? I just do understand that what is left of our life,should be a time to make changes that will make us a better person,one of pure love and loyalty to those who need us. Please do understand that we can make the difference if we do try!
Well said
People who live in a dreamless world can also dream of living worthwhile lives!!!
Damn, all in or else out.
The old addage of "if every part of your body hurts when you poke it, maybe it's your finger."
Bukowski's perception of the world is a very sad and lonely one (makes sense with his life). He sees what he wants to, and what he wanted to was the sadness he felt as well.
He very much does not want to see what he sees. If he did, he might very well have never been inspired to lift his pen.
This is the only world you can see when depressed.
I love this so much. I am so dreamlesy, so dead inside, like the fig tree jesus cursed. I feel this way because i have bipolar disorder. Life is so beautiful but this disorder is so perfect in killing my dreams, my hope and I can't take it anymore, I just can't, I tried so hard my fellow creatures . My gun is ready but I don't want to go, but I know I will loose. Health and love are the only true assets here in this world. We will meet again.
Just you thinking about all these inside prove that you're not dead not even close ,you are just blooming and if you are tired remember someday in the future we will be fine ,grateful for everything that passed and finally accepting our hearts fully without any fear.
I dont know you but I love you brother
“If you think you’ve lost your soul, you’ve still got a soul left to lose” -Bukowski
A dreamless individual sees no beauty like you do. He only sees the surface level basics
"I have bipolar disorder, and it's the opposite of feeling dead inside. The intensity of life is so overwhelming that, at times, it makes you crave death because it becomes unbearable. But I feel that if managed well, it can be a more colorful adventure than that of anyone without bipolar disorder."
Oh so sad! So true !
Thanks ❤️
This can brake anyone to SEE what he Saw. But Even beeing like that nobody comprehend.
Beautifully heartbreaking 💔❤
It is always with them, buried deep within. Seemingly non-existent, but it is there, in everyone.
Thanks!
Man that got me... 😢
wish he lived just a little longer
Yep, that's me. That's just what life looks like without hope...just survival, keeping hunger and poverty away.
Monstrous person. Life changing poet.
Why was he monstrous?
@@akito7025 We demand a reply Disappointed! Please explain.
Love
Krásný!
This hit harder during 2020-present
Please never give up on sth you loveeee
I prayed today and i feel like i have purpose again. I don't feel hopeless anymore. pray everyone ❤
i tear...to which i wonder, if i may somewhere dream in a dreamless sea
He breaks my heart.... 😔
But another thought, I always empathize with people like they're alive and all life on earth has the right to flourish even though, dreamlessly
In this universe, it's as if the curse has already won. As everything becomes accustomed to this inferno, we try to invent tiny fragments of happiness.