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- Чарльз Буковски
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"
No
.
"
"
All
right
,
drink
!
Drink
and
get
sick
!
You
know
that
stuff
almost
killed
you
once
.
Do
you
remember
the
hospital
?
"
"
I
’
ll
never
forget
it
.
"
"
All
right
,
drink
,
DRINK
!
KILL
YOURSELF
!
SEE
IF
I
GIVE
A
SHIT
!
"
Lydia
hung
up
and
so
did
I
.
Something
told
me
she
wasn
’
t
as
worried
about
my
possible
death
as
she
was
about
her
next
fuck
.
But
I
needed
a
vacation
.
I
needed
a
rest
.
Lydia
liked
to
fuck
at
least
nve
times
a
week
.
I
preferred
three
.
I
got
up
and
went
into
the
breakfast
nook
where
my
typewriter
stood
on
the
table
.
I
turned
on
the
light
,
sat
down
and
typed
Lydia
a
4
-
page
letter
.
Then
I
went
into
the
bathroom
,
got
a
razorblade
,
came
out
,
sat
down
and
had
a
good
drink
.
I
took
the
razorblade
and
sliced
the
middle
finger
of
my
right
hand
.
The
blood
ran
.
I
signed
my
name
to
the
letter
in
blood
.
I
went
down
to
the
corner
mailbox
and
dropped
the
letter
in
.
The
phone
rang
several
times
.
It
was
Lydia
.
She
screamed
things
at
me
.
"
I
’
m
going
out
DANCING
!
I
’
m
not
going
to
sit
around
alone
while
you
drink
!
"
I
told
her
,
"
You
act
like
drinking
is
like
my
going
with
another
woman
.
"
