Kero(q)uac

 I am but one man, being pulled in one thousand and one directions.

I don’t even know how to make decisions anymore.  I’ve spent so long doing what people ask me to do, by way of passive demand, that I have completely forgotten what it is like to weigh pros and cons, and decide what I want.  I kept thinking that if I just kept doing what they asked me to do that I would get some sort of reward at some point, but that doesn’t ever happen, so what do you do?  You just keep going, right?  You just keep waiting… keep thinking… keep trying… keep screaming silently at the stars… keep… keep… there are more important things to keep… less important things to let go of entirely… like dreams and things… keep…

 “My whole wretched life swam before my weary eyes, and I realized no matter what you do it’s bound to be a waste of time in the end so you might as well go mad.” 278

Had I read On the Road first, I would have never read another Kerouac, but I read Dharma Bums first, in which he had a much better grasp on what was important.  On the Road is a chaotic clusterfuck on idiocy and assholery.  Neal Cassidy is not a hero; he’s fucking doucebag trash that this world would be a better place without.  

 He wasn’t living life to the fullest; he was a waste of life who wasted everyone else’s.  I have far less faith in humanity (if that’s even possible) knowing that this book is basically the bum bible.  I’ll refrain from going on, because what’s the fucking point?  No one is going to magically grow half a brain because I pointed out the obvious.

“He no longer cared about anything (as before) but now he also cared about everything in principle, and that is to say, it was all the same to him and he belonged to the world and there was nothing he could do about it.”  287

Oh, by the way, the end of the original scroll was eaten by a dog, so of this 300 page paragraph, divided into 5 books, the entire 5th book was only the last four pages of summing up what was maybe written.  Awesome.

Yeah, so I’m tired.  Sunday we scouted Sandstone Peak for today, where something extraordinary happened…I worked with my first professional traveling model in two years.  It sounds so strange to say that because I have been in so many potential shoot situations in the last two years, but they all fizzled out, generally last minute, and models bitch about flaky photographers.  Today felt a little awkward to me, just because it was new, strange people, but we got some good stuff… I think… they’re uploading, and I’m a little afraid to look at them.  We brew in the morning.  I need to go to bed.