My friend, Brian, is filled to the brim with madness, with a pure and utter love of life and he lets nothing get in the way of his vivid vision of what life should be like, no matter what that vision may be at any given moment. He once moved to Texas to live in the back of a van just because there was an offer and because he could and so he did. Soon after he returned from his van-life, three or so months later, he left for Portland to live on various couches and to build mega-bikes, huge bikes stacked two-high and welded together. Brian is twenty-one years and human flesh of my belief.
I believe life should be beatific madness. I believe life should be spontaneous prose. (spoken quickly after, as if there is no period) Life should be Kerouac’s spontaneous prose; life should be On the Road. (short pause) I believe in wandering around and around at midnight in the railroad yard wondering where to go, and going (emphasis on going), leaving no broken hearts*; I believe my life should be lived in between the lines of Allen Ginsberg’s Howl.
Easier said or read than done, however. It is so easy to get caught up in the fear of unknowns. (short pause) What will happen to me if I leave? Where will I end up? What will my family think, and (normal paced until about here, then spoken quickly as if there are no semi-colons) who will take care of my cat; what will I eat; where will I work; where will I live; will I have a home; what will become of my future; what does future even mean; will I die, and by that I mean will I die a horrific, premature death?
(pause a couple of beats)
Would a long life not fully lived be better than a short one of soul and rapture?
(pause a couple of beats)
I have been able to bury my fears long enough to undertake a couple of adventures, the most spontaneous being one to Manchester, England to see a Chinese Opera. Not four days after the mere thought had entered my head I was there; and never before had I felt such gratification, such happiness and delight, and all other emotions on the scale from good to bad. Never had I felt so complete and real and alive.
No, a long, consistent, and tedious life is not for me. But I’m not quite ready to let go of my comforts yet, to take that plunge into madness. Until I am though, I will follow those who already have, like my friend Brian. Until I am ready (beat pause) ‘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!"’**
The maddest person of all time, Neal Cassady, his last words were supposedly, “sixty-four thousand nine-hundred and twenty-eight,” the number of ties he had counted on the railroad line in his mad-life travels. Maybe, (beat pause) if I keep at it, (beat pause) those will be my last words as well, and (beat pause) even if they do come prematurely, they’ll be worth it.
* ‘..who wandered around and around at midnight in the railroad yard wondering where to go, and went, leaving no broken hearts..’ from Howl by Allen Ginsberg
** ‘But then they danced down the streets like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I’ve been doing all my life after the people who interest me, because 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 sky and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes “awww!”’ -On the Road, Jack Kerouac
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5 comments:
I love the energy in your essay. It's got some of that spontaneous prose that you allude to with Ginsburg and Kerouac. I also like how you want to show that life should be lived as that same literary prose--nice touch.
Try to work on the flow, which doesn't always connect. For example, when you start with Brian, I like the example, but the tideas seem to jump a bit. Try to smooth out the connections in the first paragraph and then tie in a smoother transition into the second paragraph and "beatific madness."
I really like the way you conclude the essay with the analogy to the railroad ties and your life. Nice touch.
i liked your essay, and now that i see it in writing i think your pauses and cues work. they seem to be at good times.
I really like the topic of your essay and the examples that you use. you could work a little on the flow of the essay, but other than that i thought it was well written!
Your essay is magnificent! I love the details and pictures you put into the mind of the reader or listener. I especially like the part with the description of a fire work as an analogy. you read that part well too, really dynamic!
Your descriptions give clear images in this essay. I can see and feel what you want. your example with brian and the van life was great and very concrete. your writing mimics what you want. it's lively and passionate and flowing with your thoughts. for me, because i stumble over my words a lot, had a little trouble just reading it silently. so a suggestion is too not get too carried away with your lovely words and cut down so your mouth won't get too overwhelmed but that's probably just me. though when i heard you read it, your pauses and cues flowed well; your rhythm grabbed my interest and i could still hear your phrases and ideas naturally. they weren't jerky. Also your quotes at the end tie up the previous examples of allen ginsberg and kerouac. they allow the readers or listeners to know where your coming from. :)
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