If there's one thing that I know right now, it's that I'm going to be really tired tomorrow and regret having stayed up this late. But I don't think I could sleep at the moment anyway.
I've been falling asleep with my face smashed between the pages of On the Road today, and also The Catcher in the Rye, though I must admit I've been slacking on my reading of the latter one since I've read it before. I'm preoccupied with thoughts of the '60s and particularly how that generation correlates to the many wild and fantastical stories my dad has told me over the last 21 years. Maybe I haven't made it to the wild parts of the story yet, but Jack Kerouac kind of seems like he was just a regular guy. Or maybe that's just because I spent so much time watching that Weather Underground documentary and fantasizing about the '60s being all about wild sexual freedom and trying to overthrow our government. Whatever the case may be, it's still hard for me to fathom the fact that many of the people who were so crucial and influential to the Beat Generation were younger then than I am now.
I don't know what this quarter will bring, but I know that I already have a hell of a lot of homework, so cross your fingers for me that my reading pace will somehow miraculously improve. Hopefully I'll find some time to write some poems, too!
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