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Tags » Jack Kerouac
There was nowhere to to go but everywhere, so just keep on rolling underneath the stars.
I lived worlds apart, not only geographically, but culturally, from the American Beat Generation of the late 1950’s. There I was, Iiving in a British colony in Central Africa, while they were living in California, in the San Francisco Bay area. 725 more words
Sanguine poetry dressed in the sex and suffering of addiction.
That’s how I wish I could describe Naked Lunch.
Addiction is horrifying. Worse than any disease, more debilitating than any ordinary suffering, it is the surrender of one’s identity to a single moment of weakness. 534 more words