Beautiful Madness

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!”
- Jack Kerouac



Sometimes I agree. Usually I am the yawner saying commonplace things, and I like other people who yawn with me. But deep inside me there is the blue centerlight, desiring sometimes to pop and make everybody go 'awww'.
I wait for inspiration. In this ever endless pursuit there is something small yet so valuable that can be lost, forgotten. It is the reason that the pursuit was started int the first place. I desire inspiration to be "mad", to live with with a passion that burns out of control. I wait patiently. The things that used to make me laugh and smile with delight, the things that used to make me weep with true joy, the things that used to move my soul; where are they? Why do these emotions and words bounce off my bones like dull rocks. I desire so badly for them to crack or at least make a dent. The truth that used to shake me with realization, now feels like dirty bath water filling an empty shell.. So I wait. Wait for the inspiration to come. The inspiration to make me want to be mad and shine again like that centerlight. But I cannot forget the reason I want this so badly. I wait but not in vain. I shake this feeling and rinse it off with clean water. Maybe the pursuit of inspiration will turn out to be the inspiration itself.