There is a Jack Kerouac quote that I love and use all the time. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.
I feel this way all the time. Anytime I write or say anything. This echoes in the back of my mind. With a tiny smirk, as my tongue delivers the words or when my fingers type. I remember what Jack said back in the days.
It must be all the weed I have smoked or all the psychedelics I have taken, way back when. But there are times when I'm sure that I don't even exist. Now you must be thinking, wait what or how?
There is this distinct felt experience of being just a pen, that my brain is just a receiver. That I am just all the pages that I have ever read, all the words that have ever been said, all the people that I have loved, all the women that have broken my heart, all the pain I have ever felt; all the dreams I have dreamt and all the things I have ever seen.
Myself as theme carrier, as a meme replicator.
And on nights like this, with my feet dangling at the abyss. There is a quote by Allen Ginsberg that hugs my soul. The weight of the world is love. Under the burden of solitude, under the burden of dissatisfaction the weight, the weight we carry is love...
