i don't even: the flesh covers the bone and they... →
I fucking love Bukowski. It’s like he knows me, and all of humanity. floatingparticles: the flesh covers the bone and they put a mind in there and sometimes a soul, and the women break vases against the walls and the men drink too much and nobody finds the one but keep looking crawling in and out of beds. flesh covers the bone and the flesh searches for more than …
The Rapture Man Cometh
…any minute, now. Computing naked is pretty much the best thing I can think to do while I wait. And then, the laughter.
Alan Turing turns in his grave →