‘But what is the purpose of all this? Why are you doing this to me?’ ‘It’s nothing, it’s nothing, darling — ah — hem — Sal has pleaded and begged with me to come and get him, it is absolutely necessary for me to — but we won’t go into all these explanations — and I’ll tell you why … No, listen, I’ll tell you why.’ And he told her why, and of course it made no sense.
From On the Road by Jack Kerouac.
Forever writing. Getting lost in words. Describing the moment. A friend mentioned Jack Kerouac. In relation to what is written. Wikipedia’d him. As it turns out, Jack Kerouac inspired Haruki Murakami. All intertwined. Then in Amsterdam. Much later and with plenty of time to kill. Looking for shoes. Finding a bookstore. “H for Hemmingway” … “K for Kerouac,” on the English shelf. Bought On the Road. It is great. Thanks Art.