Tuesday, July 29, 2014

mañana, I'll go...

reading about Jack's
adventures in California
makes me feel like shit,
here I am, sitting alone
on this fucking futon
while Sal Paradise is banging
(what I'd like to believe)
a foxy mexican chick,
working the fields,
drinking everynight,
three-thousand miles
away from home,
What I wouldn't give to
be able to just walk up
to the closest road with
traffic, stick out my thumb
and head west

The world has changed
since this was written,
it's uglier now, suspicious,
It's almost hilarious
thinking of a person passing
me by because they think
I'd carjack or kill them,
lil' ol' me,
if they only knew,
yeah the world has
certainly changed,
we're brought up now to
despise each other,
even if they didn't suspect
me capable of murder or theft,
they would pass me by out of
fear of a conversation,
though who even has time
these days to waste a second
to stop for a complete stranger?

you really can't just
get up and go like
Jack did in the book,
hell, maybe I tell myself that
because I'm too scared to do it

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