2. Start no more new books, add no more new material to “Black Spring.”
3. Don’t be nervous. Work calmly, joyously, recklessly on whatever is in hand.
4. Work according to Program and not according to mood. Stop at the appointed time!
5. When you can’t create you can work.
6. Cement a little every day, rather than add new fertilizers.
7. Keep human! See people, go places, drink if you feel like it.
8. Don’t be a draught-horse! Work with pleasure only.
9. Discard the Program when you feel like it—but go back to it next day. Concentrate. Narrow down. Exclude.
10. Forget the books you want to write. Think only of the book you are writing.
11. Write first and always. Painting, music, friends, cinema, all these come afterwards.” —Henry Miller’s “11 Commandments” (via ryanhatesthis)
Today at work a pen exploded while I was chewing on the end of it and turned my whole mouth bright blue…so pretty normal day altogether.
…and I launched into a very long and detailed explanation, including the band members full names and album tittles. I didn’t know how well versed I was until it all happened out loud, and I don’t want to live anymore.
- Chandler: Remember that times we saw Emeril!?
- Me: No, that wasn't me.
- Chandler: Yeah well I did see him. At a book signing.
- Me: Like, you found out Emeril was having a book signing, and you went there, on purpose?
- Chandler: No I was there and there was no line, I was told he would not sign books that weren't his. I really wanted a copy of Brave New World signed by Emeril.
- Me: There was no line at all? Poor Emeril.
- Chandler: That dude is super rich...but yeah it was kind of sad.
the mayans were right
…I don’t want to hate you, but I will.
Remember when you were a kid and someone told you that drinking Mountain Dew kills sperm. And you thought ‘Oh, okay.’ And then years later someone in your class found out about vaccines and decided that it meant, according to the transitive property, that Mountain Dew had to have sperm in it in order to kill sperm. Then you thought, ‘Ew, gross.’ And years later when you were sitting alone in your living room, drinking Mountain Dew with Maker’s Mark, thinking about what it was like to be a child, when you just believed everything the kids with the confident voices told you? And you thought ‘Jesus Fucking Christ, I’m surprised the Boston Public School system didn’t kill all the brain cells.’
No? Just me then?