I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till i drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own... more

I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till i drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.

RT @PenguinPbks Jack Kerouac lived from March 12, 1922 – October 21, 1969. He died at the age of 47, & is buried in his hometown, Lowell at Edson Cemetery.

Passages from Maggie Cassidy...I understand why he resonates so with me.

“The only people 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, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing... more

“The only people 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, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars…” I think I found my epitaph...

"The evening star must be drooping and shedding her sparkler dims on the prairie, which is just before the coming of complete night that blesses the Earth, darkens all the rivers, cups the peaks and... more

"The evening star must be drooping and shedding her sparkler dims on the prairie, which is just before the coming of complete night that blesses the Earth, darkens all the rivers, cups the peaks and folds the final shore in, and nobody, nobody knows what's going to happen to anybody besides the forlorn rags of growing old, I think of Dean Moriarty, I even think of Old Dean Moriarty the father we never found, I think if Dean Moriarty."

"... mas todos nós acordamos no dia seguinte nos sentindo meio tristonhos e alienados" (Kerouac)

“I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till I drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own... more

“I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till I drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.”
(Jack Kerouac)