When I was 19 and in my Beat worshipping, black turtleneck wearing phase I scrawled this in one of my journals. Though I've only retained my love of Ferlinghetti, it still holds true and is somewhat beautiful..
"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..."
-jack kerouac
(okay, I still wear the turtleneck sometimes...)
