Quotation: Charles Bukowski, Tales of Ordinary Madness pg 152

o,  sanctums of fountains, o scrotums, o fountaining scrotums, o man's great
ugliness everywhere like the fresh dogturd that the morning shoe did not see
again; o, the mighty police, o the mighty weapons, o the mighty dictators, o
the  mighty damn fools everywhere, o the lonely lonely octopus, o the clock-
tick  seeping  each  neat  one of us balanced and unbalanced  and  holy  and
constipated, o the bums lying in alleys of misery in a golden world,  o  the
children  to  become ugly, o the ugly to become uglier, o  the  sadness  and
sabres  and  the closing of the walls - no Santa Claus, no Pussy,  no  Magic
Wand, no Cinderella, no Great Minds Ever; kukoo - just shit and the whipping
of  dogs  and children, just shit and the whiping away of shit; just doctors
without  patients just clouds without rain just days without days, o  god  o
mighty that you put this upon us.

with. having. seeing. feeling. no definable sharp edges.

undoubtedly or
without a reasonable doubt,
there were
3 three big beers pulsing through her urethra-

the warm humanly processed fluid of an early evening passed in pensive poise.

It was always a good feeling to her, to finish a book. To read was to enter a different world, to explore the inescapable, inexorable labyrinth of a strangers thoughts. Volumes were like unhinged screen doors into others intelligence and brought with them, to her, the hope and faith that others existed, even in the most fleeting of moments, with such unfailing passion and grace as she hoped that she possessed.

Whatever the days ahead had courageously in mind for her, she tried to pay no thought. After all was said and done, she was, as she always had been. The things that force people to act in certain meticulous ways were breakable, but only in the grievous and most certain of circumstances. This she understood only through thin chilled beers and cheap music. One was not supposed to be who they were not. One was supposed to act according to their convictions and only alter that set when those convictions become detrimental to the self.

Strangely, in her solitude, her unwilling coldness to let people enter her true being was melting away. Be it the imminent arrival of a man she felt deeply connected to, or her own post adolescent recognition or actualization of the self as the self- she felt secure, confident and proud to walk in the direction that she felt beckoned to her.