(no subject)
The ones for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars. -- Jack Kerouac, On the Road
Hmm. What a strange night its been, so busy its given me a migraine. Tomorrow is the first time since last Tuesday that I don't have to go anywhere...so I'm making plans to go out shopping with a friend. I also left R. a message earlier today. As mentioned a few posts ago, I've written two letters that were never sent and today, after pumping gas, decisively dialed the number. Its been a year, and I can still being doing something either completely wonderful or heartbreaking and then, unexpectedly, wish he was near. So, I told him of how I'm moving on: going to live in a basement rent-free, driving into town once a week to continue running the soundbooth at our church, how so many old acquaintances of mine were returning to my life hurt--one girl was raped; one slit her wrists; one's mom went to prison up north. Because of all that I've been trying to get ahold of former friends and "straighten things out". "Its just something I feel like I need to do"; and can we meet somewhere and here's the number if you don't remember it.
Have you ever deliberately shut your eyes to the stupidity of your own actions so the roman candle could burn a little while longer?
Hmm. What a strange night its been, so busy its given me a migraine. Tomorrow is the first time since last Tuesday that I don't have to go anywhere...so I'm making plans to go out shopping with a friend. I also left R. a message earlier today. As mentioned a few posts ago, I've written two letters that were never sent and today, after pumping gas, decisively dialed the number. Its been a year, and I can still being doing something either completely wonderful or heartbreaking and then, unexpectedly, wish he was near. So, I told him of how I'm moving on: going to live in a basement rent-free, driving into town once a week to continue running the soundbooth at our church, how so many old acquaintances of mine were returning to my life hurt--one girl was raped; one slit her wrists; one's mom went to prison up north. Because of all that I've been trying to get ahold of former friends and "straighten things out". "Its just something I feel like I need to do"; and can we meet somewhere and here's the number if you don't remember it.
Have you ever deliberately shut your eyes to the stupidity of your own actions so the roman candle could burn a little while longer?