if it doesn't come bursting out of youin spite of everything,don't do it.unless it comes unasked out of yourheart and your mind and your mouthand your gut,don't do you have to sit for hoursstaring at your computer screenor hunched over yourtypewritersearching for words,don't do you're doing it for money orfame,don't do you're doing it because you wantwomen in your bed,don't do you have to sit there andrewrite it again and again,don't do it's hard work just thinking about doing it,don't do you're trying to write like somebodyelse,forget about you have to wait for it to roar out ofyou,then wait it never does roar out of you,do something you first have to read it to your wifeor your girlfriend or your boyfriendor your parents or to anybody at all,you're not 't be like so many writers,don't be like so many thousands ofpeople who call themselves writers,don't be dull and boring andpretentious, don't be consumed with libraries of the world haveyawned themselves tosleepover your 't add to 't do it.unless it comes out ofyour soul like a rocket,unless being still woulddrive you to madness orsuicide or murder,don't do it.unless the sun inside you isburning your gut,don't do it is truly time,and if you have been chosen,it will do it byitself and it will keep on doing ituntil you die or it dies in you.there is no other there never was.
2 мин
СлушатьSo You Want To Be A Writer
0
0
70
Подарок
Charles Bukowski
Henry Charles Bukowski (born Heinrich Karl Bukowski; August 16, 1920 – March 9, 1994) was a German-American poet, novelist, and short story writ…
Другие работы автора
To The Whore Who Took My Poems
sm say w shul kp prsnal rmrs frm th pm,stay abstrat, an thr is sm rasn in this,but jzus;twlv pms gn an I n't kp arbns an yu havmypaintings t, my bst ns; its stifling:ar yu trying t rush m ut lik...…
Prayer In Bad Weather
by G, I n't knw what 'r s ni t hav hav a way f playing withth ballsan lking at th k vrysriuslyturning ittwaking itxamining ah partas thir lng hair falls nyur 's nt th fuking an sukingaln that rahs int...…
Rhyming Poem
th glfish sing all night with guitars,an th whrs g wn with th stars,th whrs g wn with th stars I'm srry, sir, w ls at 4:30,bsis yur mthr's nk is irty,an th whrs g wn with th t ,th whrs g wn...…
Decline
nak alng th si f th hus,8 a m , spraing ssam s ilvr my by, Jsus, hav I mt this…
Комментарии
Вам нужно войти , чтобы оставить комментарий