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.
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.
Interpretation
What this quote means
This quote reflects the struggle of being polite while feeling disconnected from others, highlighting the emotional toll of superficial interactions.
In this quote, Charles Bukowski expresses a deep frustration with his interactions with others, revealing a pattern where he feigns engagement to avoid conflict or hurt feelings. This 'cut-off period' signifies a defense mechanism where he emotionally detaches himself from conversations, leading to a sense of alienation and dissatisfaction, particularly when his kindness is met with ignorance from those around him. Bukowski critiques not only his own behavior but also the nature of human interactions that often lack depth and understanding.
Themes
In practice
Example use cases
In a discussion about mental health, this quote can illustrate how one may feel pressured to conform in social settings.
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.
He asked, "what makes a man a writer?" "well," I said, "it's simple, it's either you get it down on paper or you jump off a bridge. writers are desperate people and when they stop being desperate they stop being writers." "are you desperate?" "I don't know.
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The lie is so vile, that even if it were in speaking well of godly things, it would take off something from God's grace; and Truth is so excellent, that if it praises but small things they become noble.