paperback writer
Last night, as per tradition, we watched movies that make us think before be-bathing suiting ourselves and doing the jerky frozen-tiptoe from the door to the jacuzzi, where we slid into the heat and the steam and let our minds diffuse into the night. Three hours we spent there, pruning and pining and pensively mulling over the human condition, allowing thoughts to roll off our tongues and drop into the punctuated dark like so many before us. I imagined Kerouac and Ginsburg must have had so many conversations of this same nature in a completely different world under the same stars. Plato and Aristotle. Brittany and Nicole. Because why the hell not? Transient thinking isn't limited to the Great Thinkers. If thoughts are like energy, perpetually moving through space, changing form as they flit from one state of being to another, sliding in and out of heads for all of eternity, always being created but never destroyed, the essence of every great and terrible thought is at our disposal at any given moment. I love that. And I love, love... -Kerouac
FIN. 1:58 p.m., Wednesday, May. 25, 2005ink ::
graphite
|