I dunno, I never thought I was the poetry type, nor did I ever think I’d be into reading. It’s strange how you change,I mean it blows my mind how much I’ve changed, I always thought I’m just simple I still feel dumb as I’m not good with words i.e. Talking, I get brain freezes and forget words. I completely get so fucked off with myself. I think it’s gotten worse with living in another country to be honest. Anyways I’m always in the library and my fingers keep sliding through the poetry shelf and I picked a cracker today ( a good book) Charles Bukowski. I fucking can’t put it down. I relate to him,well I feel I do. Going from job to job meeting all these characters from all sorts of life.i feel from the ages of 15-23 I lived a middle age persons life struggling for money going from job to job, going to art school,night school, juggling 2/3 jobs trying to figure out how to educate myself and have a good life as well as paying board, then hitting the dark fun path and leaving the struggle of northern life behind.