Wattpad suggested to me one direction fanfics and other related things. Gila.
I am all for writing on what you love and know but some things should forever remain in your hard drive or even better, in your head.
Just came back from a meeting. Drove home while listening to Bukowski reading his stuff. I wonder why a drunk reliving his drunken existence/ observation can be so engaging.
My exposure to poetry is limited to what they ram down your throat in school and the Shakespeare i know is limited to the line : to be or not to be (because i often ask my self that). I dont understand all the fuss over Lang Leav. I failed to see the beauty of two lines saying how sexy an ovary can be. Simply said, i have no fine appreciation for poetry. A philistine. An uncultured hick but God help me. I think i kinda like Bukowski.
Can you get drunk on green tea?