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 the fabulous roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars......Jack Kerouac penned these fantastic words in his book, ON THE ROAD.
Coming back from Colorado every year is a big huge low for me. I find it hard to see alot reason here after spending time in such a pristine place. I want to walk down to the river to cool off, I want low humidity, I want my roads to made of dirt, I want to be able to get up high, above tree line, where I can see a world with no buildings. I want my friends to be more interested in relationships and experience than work, work, work.....but mostly I want my girl back home, I need my girl back home. If she doesn't get back soon, I might not make it. I see why so many people (including myself) drink so much from time to time around here. It's a good way of dulling the reality of things.
There are so many things I still want to do. God, there is so much out there.
Dylan knew when he sang, 'I'm stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again.'
I hear ya Bob.