It’s impossible to fall off mountains, you fool
Jack Kerouac
Josh Cairney
We all agree it’s too big to keep up with, that we’re surrounded by life, that we’ll never understand it, so we center it all in by swigging Scotch from the bottle and when it’s empty I run out of the car and buy another one, period.
Jack Kerouac, Big Sur
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
Jack Kerouac — “Goofing at the Table”
One Fast Move or I’m Gone: Kerouac’s Big Sur
I just got this from Netflix the other day. It is absolutely worth a watch if you’re a fan of Kerouac, especially if you have read Big Sur.
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
Jack Kerouac — “American Haikus”
No telegram today, only more leaves fell
It’s just a matter of loving your own life, loving the story of your own life, loving the dreams in your sleep as parts of your life, as little children do and Cody did, loving the soul of man (which I have seen in the smoke), lilting in your own breaks to make them good and bad according to the geography of the day…
Jack Kerouac
Once I was young and had so much more orientation and could talk with nervous intelligence about everything and with clarity and without as much literary preambling as this…
Jack Kerouac
—lights out—
fall, hands a-clapsed, into instantaneous
ecstasy like a shot of heroin or morphine
the gland inside of my brain discharging
the good glad fluid (Holy Fluid) as
I hap-down and hold all my body parts
down to a deep deadstop trance — Healing
all my sickness — erasing all — not
even the shred of a “I-hope-you” or a
Loony Balloon left in it, but the mind
blank, serene, thoughtless. When a thought
comes a-springing from afar with its held-
forth figure of image, you spoof it out,
you spuff on it, you fake it, and
it fades, and thought never comes — and
with joy you realize for the first time
“Thinking’s just like not thinking —
So I don’t have to think
any
more
fall, hands a-clapsed, into instantaneous
ecstasy like a shot of heroin or morphine
the gland inside of my brain discharging
the good glad fluid (Holy Fluid) as
I hap-down and hold all my body parts
down to a deep deadstop trance — Healing
all my sickness — erasing all — not
even the shred of a “I-hope-you” or a
Loony Balloon left in it, but the mind
blank, serene, thoughtless. When a thought
comes a-springing from afar with its held-
forth figure of image, you spoof it out,
you spuff on it, you fake it, and
it fades, and thought never comes — and
with joy you realize for the first time
“Thinking’s just like not thinking —
So I don’t have to think
any
more
Jack Kerouac
I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till I drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.
Jack Kerouac
