I can never drive my car over a bridge without thinking of suicide. I can never look at a lake or an ocean without thinking of suicide.
Charles BukowskiRead
there was something about that city, though it didn't let me feel guilty that I had no feeling for the things so many others needed. it let me alone. sitting up in my bed the lights out, hearing the outside sounds, lifting my cheap bottle of wine, letting the warmth of the grape enter me as I heard the rats moving about the room, I preferred them to humans. being lost, being crazy maybe is not so bad if you can be that way undisturbed. New Orleans gave me that. nobody ever called my name.
Interpretation
What this quote means
The quote reflects a sense of comfort in solitude and the acceptance of one's own feelings versus societal norms.
In this quote by Charles Bukowski, the speaker expresses a deep appreciation for the city of New Orleans, which offers a respite from societal expectations and human connections. Here, solitude and the chaotic ambiance of the city allow for self-acceptance and a unique perspective on life, suggesting that feeling lost or different is not inherently negative, especially when one can embrace those feelings in peace. The quote highlights the idea that true solace can be found in isolation, away from the demands and needs of others.
Themes
SolitudeAcceptanceNew OrleansIsolationComfort
In practice
Example use cases
This quote can be used in a discussion about the value of solitude and personal reflection in a mental health seminar.
More from Charles Bukowski
All quotes →when I am feeling low all i have to do is watch my cats and my courage returns
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The masses are always wrong...Wisdom is doing everything the crowd does not do. All you do is reverse the totality of their learning and you have the heaven they're looking for.
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I'm going to open another vottle. not a vottle, but a bottle. you open it and I'll drink it. and you try to write as much as I did without falling off of your chair.
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To experience real agony is something hard to write about, impossible to understand while it grips you; you're frightened out of your wits, can’t sit still, move, or even go decently insane.
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I lapsed into my pathetic cut-off period. Often with humans, both good and bad, my senses simply shut off, they get tired, I give up. I am polite. I nod. I pretend to understand because I don’t want anybody to be hurt. That is the one weakness that has lead me into the most trouble. Trying to be kind to others I often get my soul shredded into a kind of spiritual pasta. No matter. My brain shuts off. I listen. I respond. And they are too dumb to know that I am not there.
Charles BukowskiRead
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