A creative writing piece
“The only people for me are the mad ones…” – Jack Kerouac
My friends, my brothers:
all of us are full of madness.
You have seen me grow,
from grade school to graduation,
and now you watch me wander,
from here, from this city,
in which we were raised,
to distant places;
only to return again.
You too have left,
traveling along similar roads,
meeting others who are equally mad for life,
who are desirous about everything,
and who see God everywhere.
We have gone from Perth to Palestine,
and have not escaped the pull of this place,
a place we cannot help but call home.
And here we are again, drinking coffee.
Tonight, with the frost on the windows,
and school out for the semester,
what else is there to do, but sip and smile,
and speak of times that are to come,
of children that will be born, of weddings,
of breakups, and of the places we plan to see.
For before long, we will again be on the road,
and God, in his madness, might take you far away.
But we will be here, sitting, slurping.
These times, these people, they are the ones for me.