I had no interests. I had no interests in anything. I had no idea how I was going to escape. At least the others had some taste for life. They seemed to understand something that I didn’t understand. Maybe I was lacking. It was possible. I often felt inferior. I just wanted to get away from them. But there was no place to go. Suicide? Jesus Christ, just more work. I felt like sleeping for five years but they wouldn’t let me.
― Charles Bukowski, Ham on Rye (via sad-plath)
R.I.P Nelson Mandela
Drugs may kill you, but they’ll never break your heart.
― (via ugeuhqfbqgoqhng9q)
I destroyed my body for a peace of mind I never got.
― Unknown (via metaphorically)