I was trying to explain how I feel about conversation to a friend…how some people are 'nice' but don't really add much. It came out kind of wrong. Then I was spending a little time in the Library at Rotorua and I stumbled across a remark by The One & Only Jack Kerouac that, curiously enough, explained.
"But then they danced down the street like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I've been doing all my life after people who interest me, because 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 and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!""
'bout sums it up.
Kerouac's On The Road
P.S. This will be the first Christmas without my father, who died a couple of months back. Flipped through a book of epitaphs - this one resonated:
"Be thou what you think I ought to have been"
Then, for laughs:
"When I am dead
I hope it may be said
his sins were scarlett
But his books were read"
Penned by Hillaire Belloc himself..
Mine should read:
Here Goes Nothing
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