On the road

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, 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 common place thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue center light pop and everybody goes "aawww". 

 

A book was given to me when I was moving from Texas to Seattle WA. Called "on the road" by Jack Kerouac. A friend gave it to me the night before I left for the north, I never picked the damn book up to read it, till I ran out of books TO read. It wasnt because I did'nt like the book or was ungrateful for getting it as a gift, I just never did untill I started working. I would take books with me to work all the time because I had a useless job (more or less boring). So I started reading it one day, and for some reason that short paragraph stuck out to me more than anything in that book. Maybe it was just a wonderful description of how the author might have felt or maybe I like to think way to much about little things like this, but in the past recent years, the friends that I have made and the people I have had relationships with (whether it was a girlfriend or just a simple friendship) have been those kind of people. Ranging from crazy atheist who were my best friends all the way to extreme conservative christians who would rather rip out there hearts than to be caught dead sayimg a foul word. Which in reality they did do quite a bit cursing around me (I like to think I bring the best out of people sometimes)  They have been just flat out and simply mad. Mad to live, mad to love one another, passionatetly love others, mad to give themselves to God and his master plan, and just plain mad to be alive. All though I did notice one common thing in all of there lives, that I am aware of myself as well. They were all hurting, from lust to pain, greed, trusting others, lying, stealing, drugs, alcohol, sex, and depression. And just like the rest of us "saints" we have struggled with one if not all of these problems at one point even at the same time. Needless to say I am thankful for each and everyone of those screwed up people that waltzed into and out of my life and even decided to stay and make a nest in my life. I love them, I call them my friends, they are who makes me who I am, and they accept that I am broken, and hurting, and worn out from hard times in life, they pick me up when I need a hand. They even jump over private school baseball fences with me when I just need to play catch. And untill the day my lungs give out, I will love them and there families.