Some of the greatest writers wrote when they were drunk
Bukowski, Vonnegut, Hemmingway
To me, there is only sadness that pours onto the page.
And regret.
How they did it I’ll never know.
Maybe the honesty is what comes natural.
Perhaps how cerebral it is.
I can’t think of anything but what is lost, or to be lost.
Alcohol fuels the fire of misery.
Bukowski, Vonnegut, Hemmingway
To me, there is only sadness that pours onto the page.
And regret.
How they did it I’ll never know.
Maybe the honesty is what comes natural.
Perhaps how cerebral it is.
I can’t think of anything but what is lost, or to be lost.
Alcohol fuels the fire of misery.