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Miracle by Charles Bukowski

A year ago today I was holding an already battered notebook in hand and writing down Bukowski’s poem as if my life depended on it. It was a few weeks after my first ever workshop, and was missing those days fiercely. Those days changed my life. It was my point of no return. Until today I do not know what I’ve done to be this lucky.

Charles Bukowski

I have just listened to this
symphony which Mozart dashed off
in one day
and it had enough wild and crazy
joy to last
whatever forever
Mozart came as close as
possible to

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