I woke up late and was going to go to Kerouac’s Kafe but instead smoked with a new friend. I’ve decided to refer to everyone by different names and I’m going to have to make a list to keep track, and this new friend was a real cool dude named Trivvy. He isn’t in school either and we got along pretty well bouncing around jokes and such. After he left I decided I was too stoned to go make new friends in strange places, at Kerouac’s, so I resolved on the familiar Travonna’s coffee house instead. But on a sudden strange lovely urge I walked right past the cafe and instead went to ramble around little foreign side streets past all the broad buzzing cars, giving smiles to all the strangers on the sidewalk. I thought I should start saying ‘Hi how are you today’ to people as I walked by but didn’t really feel like it, though it’s something I would like to earnestly do all the time. I walked by a grass field and felt right that I should sit in the middle of it and write. It was right next to the road and the hundreds of cars whizzing by seeing this kid in dirty clothes sitting in the grass where no one ever bothers to even walk. I hesitated though, missing the bright moment and seeing a iron bench instead, so I sat and wrote and dreamed there for a while. And I’ve resolved also to always have my notebook and write little poems and verse about nature and people the empty city of crystals where ever I am.
After that I wound my way back to Travonna’s. I was waiting to cross the street with a few other people, standing on the concrete corner watching cars whiz past. The crossing sign flashed white to cross but the cars kept coming so we stood helpless and waited watching. Then an old broken lady with a crooked head in a wheelchair shot out into the street and the traffic stopped dead for this little old woman and we wondered if she had expected the traffic to stop….
Outside Travonna’s I stopped to smoke a cigarette before going in like I usually do. A man came out in cheap unprofessional business clothes and asked for a cigarette. Yesterday had been the first I saw of him at Travonna’s and he asked me for a cigarette then too. I gave him one this time. He said he was a model agent and went on talking about shaving and why he likes certain razors because they exfoliate and I said they open your pores. He got tried telling me that no they exfoliate and realized confused they were the same. Then his cheap suited business partner came out and he too asked for a cigarette. I lied and said I didn’t have many left, that his friend got the lucky one. They laughed something and I went inside and spent my time reading reading instead of actually writing, and I think it’s because reading the Dharma Bums, with Kerouac’s ephemeral whisps of existence and nothingness, has made me wonder about the nihil. The Isopanisad I’ve been reading too exerts similar ideas of being beyond work and the cogs of society, me thinking this has all given me a larger sense of self-negation and the Universal Will.