YOU DON'T SMELL FIRE," I yelled. YOU SMELL SMOKE.
Charles BukowskiMAILMAN CAUGHT DRINKING THE BLOOD OF GOD AND TAKING A SHOWER, NAKED, IN ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH.
Charles BukowskiLet' em learn or let' em die
Charles BukowskiIt wasn't my day. My week. My month. My year. My life. God damn it.
Charles BukowskiEverybody had to conform, find a mold to fit into. Doctor, lawyer, soldier -- it
didn't matter what it was. Once in the mold you had to push forward. Sussex was as helpless as the
next man. Either you managed to do something or you starved in the streets.
Now, I thought, pushing my cart along, I have this job. Is this to be it? No wonder men robbed
banks. There were too many demeaning jobs. Why the hell wasn't I a superior court judge or a
concert pianist? Because it took training and training cost money. But I didn't want to be anything
anyhow. And I was certainly succeeding
Nessuno trova mai la persona giusta.
Charles BukowskiTags: love-hurts
SO YOU WANT TO BE A WRITER
if it doesn't come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don't do it.
if you're doing it for money or
fame,
don't do it.
if you're doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don't do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don't do it.
if it's hard work just thinking about doing it,
don't do it.
if you're trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.
if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.
if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you're not ready.
don't be like so many writers,
don't be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don't be dull and boring and
pretentious, don't be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don't add to that.
don't do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don't do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don't do it.
when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.
there is no other way.
and there never was.
I had no Freedom. I had nothing.
Charles Bukowskiwell, i don't know about you but I'm going to try everything! War, women, travel, marriage, children, the works. [...]. I want to know about things, what makes them work!
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