“This is the night, what it does to you.”
我见过很多人的夜空，平静的、疯狂的、深邃的、广袤无垠的、近的、远的、开着玫瑰的、交错颠倒的，却没有一个像他那么痴迷的。如果生活有另一个样子，应该就是这样了吧，在迷失的星星中间炸开烟火。做梦的时候人人都是Jasagender，醒来又无所适从。
“..., 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 stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes ‘Awww!’”
Three chapters later it goes like...
“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.”
Kerouac, man who really tells you about life.
Hey.
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