So you want to be a writer

by Charles Bukowski

He starts off by saying, "if it doesn't come bursting out of you/ in spite of everything,/ don't do it."

It reads like a warning label, almost.  Cautions you against diving into the writing world.  The world of a writer who writes about things that don't exist, who may or may not be penning her own life onto pages for innumerable strangers to feed off of.  That world.  Where you have to tap into your innermost to create something that you will probably edit a million times over and still not be satisfied with its outcome; you eventually abandon the piece of work because you could not deal with it any longer.  The world where you doubt your capabilities most of the time and no matter the amount of compliments you receive regarding your prized pieces of writing you're still not fully convinced that you're 'cut out for this'.
It's not the easiest walk-in-the-park vocation to be consumed by.  I always maintain, whether to askers or to myself, that if I had a choice I would not write.  I do it because I don't know how not to. 
So, "unless being still would/ drive you to madness or/ suicide or murder,/ don't do it./ unless the sun inside you is/ burning your gut,/ don't do it..."