—Winter Song
This winter has been weak. I’ve been listening to “Winter Song” all month and something about it makes me crave colder weather and fires and blankets and tea! Even though our first snowfall of the year was only about an inch, my 8:30 was cancelled this morning. That might be as good as it gets this year, but I will take it.
Worth it.
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.
—So you want to be a writer - Charles Bukowski (via henrycharlesbukowski)
(via jennyowenyoungs)
Regret nothing. Not the cruel novels you read
to the end just to find out who killed the cook.
Not the insipid movies that made you cry in the dark,
in spite of your intelligence, your sophistication.
Not the lover you left quivering in a hotel parking lot,
the one you beat to the punchline, the door, or the one
who left you in your red dress and shoes, the ones
that crimped your toes, don’t regret those.
Not the nights you called god names and cursed
your mother, sunk like a dog in the livingroom couch,
chewing your nails and crushed by loneliness.
You were meant to inhale those smoky nights
over a bottle of flat beer, to sweep stuck onion rings
across the dirty restaurant floor, to wear the frayed
coat with its loose buttons, its pockets full of struck matches.
You’ve walked those streets a thousand times and still
you end up here. Regret none of it, not one
of the wasted days you wanted to know nothing,
when the lights from the carnival rides
were the only stars you believed in, loving them
for their uselessness, not wanting to be saved.
You’ve traveled this far on the back of every mistake,
ridden in dark-eyed and morose but calm as a house
after the TV set has been pitched out the upstairs
window. Harmless as a broken ax. Emptied
of expectation. Relax. Don’t bother remembering
any of it. Let’s stop here, under the lit sign
on the corner, and watch all the people walk by.
This is my favorite right now in this second.
eeeee!
CAMERA GIVEAWAY FOR YOU
Hey Tumblr. I have this holga camera in my room that I got for Christmas like two years ago and I still have never used it not even once. I want it out of here. I could sell it, but that would be a pain, so I’m giving it away. Reblog this photo for a chance to win. I’ll pick a winner tomorrow night and announce it on Tuesday. I’ll also include a couple CDs in the package because let’s not forget that I am more than a blogger, I am a person who makes music.
Cool!
(via allisonweiss)
Stars - Your Ex-Lover is Dead (Set Yourself On Fire, 2004)
This is straight-up one of the greatest songs of all time.
There’s one thing I want to say, so I’ll be brave
You were what I wanted, I gave what I gave
I’m not sorry I met you, I’m not sorry it’s over
I’m not sorry there’s nothing to save(via screwrocknroll)
(via allisonweiss)
JERRY
LELIALELIALELIALELIALELIALELIALELIALELIALELIALELIALELIALELIALELIALELIALELIALELIALELIALELIALELIALELIALELIALELIALELIALELIALELIALELIALELIALELIALELIALELIA.
(via allisonweiss)
I don’t know how it happened (well, now that I think about it..I actually could go back and trace through my numerous clicks to figure out how it happened, but I’ll spare you the deets), but I ended up on this Wikipedia page today. It was horrible and fascinating all at once. At first I scrolled to the bottom and looked at the most recent unusual deaths that occurred, but as I went back up the page I found that the peculiarity and gruesomeness of the deaths continued to grow. Can’t say I’m glad to live in the age where an airplane hits an innocent jogging man on the beach; but I am thankful that scaphism isn’t still practiced, ya know? Poor Mithridates.
Short Film of the Day: “Splitscreen: A Love Story” by JW Griffiths — a tale of two people as told through two Nokia N8 mobile phones.
Winner: Nokia Shorts 2011.
[kottke.]
