Reading

Charles Bukowski now that’s a man who could write. No political correctness or bullshit just hard living drinking whiskey , working his way through women and jobs. I reading factotum at the moment. I want to write

like him, maybe a novel that gets banned but then becomes a cult classic. Something Irvine Walsh would be proud of but set in the land of Ireland among the squalor and the pain.

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To write a novel where sunsets are seen through darkened curtains and moonlight nights are lost in bars and whorehouses spilling liquor and loving women

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