"But you're only sixteen years old, you're younger than me, I'm seventeen--" She brooded and bit her rich lips: my soul began its first sink into her, deep, heady, lost; like drowning in a witches' brew, Keltic, sorcerous, starlike.

Jack Kerouac wrote that

“I’ll let you be in my dreams if I can be in yours”

Bobby Dylan wrote that

I've bean

reading two books by Jack Kerouac (simultaneously on accident, by the time I lost and found the subterraneans I had gotten just as far in Maggie Cassidy.)

it's all in love with the world, probably benzedrine-influenced poetic detail that I have really come to enjoy. I tend to read and re-read the words in both books, in their separate styles. making me crave the nighttime and the flats and laughs and drinks and the surreal melancholy of being up in the negative pink light of sunrise. I cannot begin to describe the ideas that surround the feeling.

these poets are good and different like I like them. beautiful diction in precise order for the hell of it, because it sounds good and picturesque like I like it.

various scraps of song lyrics:

Black valley, peace beneath the city
Where the white girls wander the strip mall, singing all day
“Give me a juggernaut heart and a Japanese car and someone to free"


In the summer all the lights would shine there'd be music playin' people laughin' all the time
Me and my sister we'd hide out in the tall corn fields
Sit and listen to the mansion on the hill


and Kerouac, in Maggie Cassidy:

"And once again, everything else exhausted for the while, he sang Jack o diamonds in that way he'd just learned, sad, incredibly sad like a dog act, or like men singing, floating broken and prophetic in the snow of the night, Jack o diamonds, as arm in arm they all scuffled into the New Year's Eve dance at the Rex Ballroom, their first dance each one, their first and last future before them."