Well, I switched to the new version of blogger.
I'm listening to "On the Road" by Jack Kerouac, narrated by Matt Dillon. I picked it up at the library out of curiousity. I've heard of Kerouac and associated him with the Beat Generation (which I know nothing about) and that's the extent of it. The tale he's weaving is really sad. "Sal" aka Jack keeps traveling across the country looking for something but so far he hasn't found it - and I don't think he will. There's moments when you can feel that you're right there with him, that something profound just happened but then it slips precariously away. He couldn't hold that moment, and neither do I because the story keeps unfolding. The book brings out alot of the norms that we/I get from society and what it means to be "good people", and for me this book challenges those norms while at the same time validating them, if that makes sense. The most consistent thought I get while listening to this story is that he's on a religious (spiritual) journey, and in the process of discovery he's destorying his body and his mind. And I keep asking myself is it really that hard? Does coming face to face with meaning have to be that hard? And I think the answer is yes, that struggle to find the meaning of life, in life, is one of life's most simply complicated joys with the answer always in front of our faces, no matter where you are.