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.
my hands dead my heart dead silence adagio of rocks the world ablaze that's the best for me.
Interpretation
What this quote means
The quote reflects the profound feeling of emptiness and resignation amidst chaos and destruction.
In this quote, Charles Bukowski evokes a sense of deep apathy and detachment, suggesting a state where both physical and emotional vitality have faded away. The imagery of 'hands dead' and 'heart dead' conveys a stark resignation to life’s harsh realities, while 'silence adagio of rocks' evokes a melancholic acceptance of a world filled with turmoil, further reinforced by 'the world ablaze.' Through this juxtaposition, Bukowski ultimately asserts that this desolate state is ironically considered the best outcome for him.
Themes
In practice
Example use cases
In a speech about overcoming life's challenges, one might reference this quote to illustrate the feeling of surrender during tough times.
More from Charles Bukowski
All quotes →when I am feeling low all i have to do is watch my cats and my courage returns
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.
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.
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.
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.
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I breakfast when I get up, lunch when I get the chance. If I never get it, I forget it. Sometimes I dine at seven, sometimes at midnight, sometimes not at all; and I never get to bed until four or five in the morning. Everything depends on the news; the hours make no difference to me.
I have never heard anyone say This is it. I know right now is the high point of my life. It will never get any better. Only in retrospect do we recognize the best times and of course then it is too late.