Shelby

“ah it will never end, there will be no help, no mercy, no living thing, it will all go on, uselessly, through fabrication and old habits, it will continue, a headless body of life, walking old walks, doing old tricks, dreaming old dreams, it will be as alone as a mountain, and despite billions of beings there will not be one real being, there will be everlasting waste and only the animals will be real, they will have the pureness of eye and the grace, they will be the last, the simple, pure, the ember, what it meant truly, the wolf will have the heart and the panther the lungs and the eagle, the eyes, and the last war will be one man sitting in a chair, laughing at it all.”
― Charles Bukowski, Bone Palace Ballet: 175 Unpublished Poems and Stories—From Hard-Drinking Apprentice to Defiant Artist Facing Fate