In some way I have been felling like Jack kerouac. Reading On the road, the things looks familiar like my days in Rio Claro. I was thinking in not compare my life with jack's life. I don't now if I will compare or not. Maybe the next time.
Kerouac's life, in some moments, remember some piece of my life, like Rio Claro one; life imitates art, or art imitates life; who knows! Kerouac's life is great and gives me power to go on, to achieve some goals that I need to. That's it, smelling Kerouac essence to write another future.
London is London, yells, screaming, strange people in the streets, garbage, beggars, vagabonds, homeless and me. London is like that too, ferraris, porsches, rich people, turists, idiots, junkie food and me too.
This is my first poem in english. This is my first thoughts in english.
Kerouac's life, in some moments, remember some piece of my life, like Rio Claro one; life imitates art, or art imitates life; who knows! Kerouac's life is great and gives me power to go on, to achieve some goals that I need to. That's it, smelling Kerouac essence to write another future.
London is London, yells, screaming, strange people in the streets, garbage, beggars, vagabonds, homeless and me. London is like that too, ferraris, porsches, rich people, turists, idiots, junkie food and me too.
This is my first poem in english. This is my first thoughts in english.
1 comment:
Soul Brother,
How do ya do?
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