have an unhappy love affair, hemorrhoids, bad teeth, drink cheap wine, keep switching the head of their
bed from wall to wall, have another unhappy love affair and never use a silk typewriter ribbon,
avoid family picnics or being photographed in a rose garden

read Hemingway only once,skip Faulkner ignore Gogol,stare at photos of Gertrude Stein and read
Sherwood Anderson in bed. realize that people who keep talking about sexual liberation
are more frightened than you are. listen to E. Power Biggs work the organ on your radio while you’re
rolling Bull Durham in the dark in a strange town, with one day left on the rent
after having given up friends, relatives and jobs.

never consider yourself superior and/or fair
and never try to be. have another unhappy love affair. watch a fly on a summer curtain.
never try to succeed. don’t shoot pool. be righteously angry when you find your car has a flat tire.
take vitamins but don’t lift weights or jog. then after all this reverse the procedure.
have a good love affair. and the thing you might learn is that nobody knows anything–
not the State, nor the mice, the garden hose or the North Star.