you've got fuck many woman, beautiful women, and write a few decent love poems.

And don't worry about the age, and/or freshly-arrived talents.

Just drink more beer, more and more beer and attend the racetrack once a week, and win if possible.

learning to win is hard-any slob can be a good loser.

and don't forget brahms and your bach and your beer.

don't over exercise.

sleep until noon.

avoid credit cards or paying for anything on time.

remember thgat there isn't a piece of ass in this world worth over $50, and if you have the ability to love, love yourself first but always be aware of the possibility of total defeat, whether the reason for that defeat seems right or wrong-

an early taste of death is not necessarily a bad thing.

stay out of churches and bars and museums, and like the spider be patient-time is everybody's cross, plus

exile

defeat

treachery

all that dross.

stay with the beer.beer i continous blood.

a continous lover.

get a large typewriter, and as the footsteps go up and down outside your window, hit that thing, hit it hard

make it a heavyweight fight

make it the bull when first changes in

and remember the old dogs, who fought so well: hemingway, celine, dostoevsky, hamsun.

if you think they didn't go crazy in tiny rooms just like you're doing now

without women

without food

withouthope

then you're not ready

drink more beer. there's time.

and i there's not, that's all right too.