(Source: americanpsychodelic, via whiteveins)
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(Source: oksibrilliant, via loveyourchaos)
Charles Bukowski’s last poem (faxed to his publisher).
“On February 18, 1994 Hank had a fax machine installed at his home. He sent me his first fax message in the form of that poem. I’m sure he visualized sending me his future letters and poems via fax, but sadly 18 days later he was gone.
“I ran off nine photocopies of the fax, for a total of ten, and numbered and initialed them. Over the next few months and years I gave copies to individuals who were Bukowski collectors and regular customers of Black Sparrow. I think I gave away the last one more than 10 years ago.
“That poem has never been published (except as described here) and the poem has never been collected in a book.” — John Martin (his publisher at Black Sparrow Press)
(via transformfeminism)
(Source: overdosage, via theeoneandonlyknutt)
(via ohcardigan)
(via theeoneandonlyknutt)
(Source: living-in-decibels, via selfinspiration)
Anything that gets your blood racing is probably worth doing.
Hunter S. Thompson (via selfinspiration)
(Source: decadentdepraved, via selfinspiration)
(Source: insanekaleidoscope, via loveyourchaos)
(via theeoneandonlyknutt)
