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
Early evening traffic was beginning to clog the avenue with cars. The sun slanted down behind him. Harry glanced at the drivers of the cars. They seemed unhappy. The world was unhappy. People were in the dark. People were terrified and disappointed. People were caught in traps. People were defensive and frantic. They felt as if their lives were being wasted. And they were right.
Interpretation
What this quote means
The quote reflects the pervasive unhappiness and discontent prevalent in society.
In this quote, Charles Bukowski captures a moment of observation where he sees the distress and dissatisfaction of people stuck in traffic, symbolizing a broader existential crisis. The drivers represent individuals trapped in the monotony of life, feeling that their potential is wasted, and highlighting a collective sense of fear, disappointment, and defensiveness against the struggles of existence.
Themes
UnhappinessDiscontentLifeExistenceTrappedSociety
In practice
Example use cases
In a discussion about mental health, this quote can illustrate the feelings of many individuals in today’s fast-paced world.
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All quotes →when I am feeling low all i have to do is watch my cats and my courage returns
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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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