It’s a late winter evening; I am listening some incredible mellow jazz, trying to immerse in the spirit of “On the road”. Page after page, I am going back in 50s…when everything seamed to be so vivid and mind blowing, when people had more time to live their sometimes crazy and dramatic lives.
Kerouac, through his book, is taking us on a journey which aims to teach that the destination is not the most important thing, whereas the experiences we got along the trip, represent the tools that bring a person out of comfort zone, that simply and completely expose the real self.
While reading, I got to feel the cold and nostalgic nights on New York streets; I shared the loneliness of wild and lost Los Angeles; I rushed in searching for adventure and answers; I craved for willingness to live everything in a moment; I could smell the appealing flavor of smoke, alcohol, sex, drugs, jazz blend. Everything speaks so vividly about wild and sinful beauty of “beat generation”.
Dean Moriarty, Sal Paradise, Marylou…they just lived passionately, fearlessly their lives, daring to follow their guts and be different…or just themselves.
“On the road” is about: desperate search for “something”, the madness of self expression, the avid desire to consume each moment of life, the feeling of never being enough, the struggles to break free of rules and build new paths, the rush of burning while jumping in threatening waves of destiny.
The book is vibrating with every word!
“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)