Hold onto your confusion; perpetuate puzzlement. Lather.
For this is the universe that saw fit to give spiders milk.
The first flaw of every lock: it is a lock.
Rejoice over every mistake. Thus, win.
Find yourself flattered at the resemblance between yourself and the person who started this sentence. Note the differences. (See No. 47.)
Continue life in an infinite succession of fulsome, unctuous, flattery.
Reject all goals; progress in discreet, joyous, adjacent possibilities.
Done well, you will remember every step of the way, and forget how you got there.
There are no bare facts. Facts are relations. They wear clothes; become fashionable; fade; strain metaphors.
Accuse perfect strangers of not knowing you until they respond with rambling, bombastic, pleonastic, counter-evidence. Thank them for defending the truth.
Devour every question with insatiable, ravenous urgency. Shit laughably erroneous conclusions.
Derive perverse joy and degenerate bliss in small things. The unbounded complexity of every jot. The interminable convolution of every tittle. The stinkblistering fuckall of every whit.
Follow yourself to the ends of the earth.
Go back to the way you were, before you wished you could go back to the way you were. Continue from there.