Someone called me a poor man’s Bukowski and I didn’t mind. “I’m only twenty-something-years-old”, I thought, “I have a long way to go. Countless pages to fill. Countless years to go unnoticed”.
by Deepansh Khurana
Someone called me a poor man’s Bukowski and I didn’t mind. “I’m only twenty-something-years-old”, I thought, “I have a long way to go. Countless pages to fill. Countless years to go unnoticed”.