
The fact that I
am writing to you
in English
already falsifies what I
wanted to tell you.
My subject:
how to explain to you that I
don't belong to English
though I belong nowhere else.
often it is the only / thing / between you and impossibility / no drink / no woman's love / no wealth/ can / match it / nothing can save you/ except writing. Charles Bukowski
I love this. I don't know where I first read it but it was while I was living in the Apt in Hudson and had just started reading latin American lit.
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