these moments, these moments
in which you understand time
in which you believe it is possible
to understand time
in which you feel, stare, shout
in which you smell, shut up! loud
waiting in the sadness
of relative emotions
you shiver
you trudge
fearing the shadow of hidden light.
and then
the grasp of time
the smell of love
the harmony of nothing
yes the absoluteness
of everything
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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!
-Jack Kerouac
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