"Чарльз Буковски. Дневник последних лет жизни (engl)" - читать интересную книгу автора

I'm not that way, I've been on Starvation Row too many times. Not
having any money at all has the slightest tinge of Romanticism when you are
very young.
Anyway, the Screamer was out there again the next day. Same thing: he
railed against the results of each race. Think of this. It's a very hard
thing to do. I mean, even if you know nothing, you can just take a number,
any number, say 3. You can bet 3 for 2 or 3 days and you are bound to
finally get a winner. But not this fellow. He is a marvel. He knows all
about horses, fractional times, track variants, pace, class, etc. but he
still manages only to pick losers. Think of it. Then forget it or it will
drive you crazy.
I picked up $275 today. I started playing the horses late, when I was
35. I've been at them for 36 years and I figure they still owe me $5,000.
Should the gods allow me 8 or 9 more ears I die even.
Now that's a goal worth shooting for, don't you think?
Huh?

10/15/91 12:55 AM
Burned out. A couple night of drinking this week. Got to admit I don't
recover as fast as I used to. Best thing about being tired is that you don't
come out (in the writing) with any wild and dizzy proclamations. Not that
that is bad unless it becomes habitual. The first thing writing should do is
save your own ass. If it does this, then it will be automatically juicy,
entertaining.
Writer I know is phoning people telling them that he types 5 hours a
night. I imagine that we are supposed to marvel at this. Of course, do I
have to tell you? What matters is what he is typing. I wonder if he counts
his telephone time as part of this 5 hours of typing?
I can type from one to 4 hours but the 4th hour, somehow, tapers away
into almost nothing. Knew a guy once who told me, "We fucked all night."
It's not the same fellow who types 5 hours a night. But they've meet each
other. Maybe they ought to take turns, switch off. The guy who typed 5 hours
get to fuck all night and the guy who fucked all night gets to type 5 hours.
Or maybe they can fuck each other while somebody else types. Not me, please.
Have the woman do it. If there is one...
Hmmm.. you know, I am feeling somewhat goofy tonight. I keep thinking
of Maxim Gorky. Why? I don't know. Somehow it seems as if Gorky never really
existed. Some writers you can believe were there. Like Turgenev or D.H.
Lawrence. Hemingway appears to me to half-and-half. He was really there but
he wasn't. But Gorky? He did write some strong thigs. Before the Revolution.
Then after the Revolution his writing began to pale. He didn't have much to
bitch about. It's like the anti- war protesters, they need a war in order to
thrive. There are some who make good living protesting against war. And when
there isn't a was they don't know what to do. Like during the Gulf War there
was group of writers, poets, they had planned a huge anti-war protest, they
were ready with thei poems and speeches. Suddenly the war was over. And the
protest was scheduled for a week later. But they didn't call it off. They
went ahead with it anyway. Because they wanted to be on stage. They needed
it. It was something like an Indian doing a Rain Dance. I myself am anti-
war. I was anti-war long ago when it wasn't even a popular, decent and