2010 August:

"The problem was you had to keep choosing between one evil or another, and no matter what you chose,
they sliced a little bit more off you, until there was nothing left.
At the age of 25 most people were finished.
A whole god-damned nation of assholes driving automobiles, eating, having babies,
doing everything in the worst way possible, like voting for the presidential candidates
who reminded them most of themselves. I had no interests. I had no interest 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."
—Ham on Rye, 1982
By Charles Bukowski.