Have I mentioned that, eh, fuck that. What I was gonna say is that the way to be is to recognize that your writing is going to be eternal and that you should save each and every bit even if it’s a letter to aunt myrtle about how your stool softening medicine is working fantastically cuz someday you’ll be sooper famous and that shit’ll be worth a lot of money. The writing, not the actual shit. So in any event, that is the way it should be, cuz then you know, you’ll have this feeling like you’re the ultimate, and like, pictures of you 40 years later or whatever will look soooo cool I mean, you’ll be so confident and uber sure of your place in the literary uberverse that no matter what pose you’re striking or what you’re doing or how retarded you may actually in fact look it will be translated into being just the hippest most heppest most insert whatever the fuck word is most appropriate for it in that day & age, of which I can’t pretend to know cuz it’s not like 2050 yet, I mean, shit, get off my back, so, if you follow my advice, and come to my seminar, and do all the shit that I say but don’t do and be sure of yourself and the fact that you just might be the best writer since, shit, I dunno, methuselah’s biographer, then and only then will you know true schwartzness. Ok, not that, but, I mean, you’ll be immortal, and isn’t that all we’re looking for in one way or another, different versions of living on past our mortal coils? Some do it with words, some with pictures, some have their heads chopped off & thrown in a freezer but it all comes down to making some kind of a permanent mark on this world, which is really laughable when you think about it cuz earth’ll prolly just get blown up by aliens someday anyway.