Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

I think what has kept me from suicide is love. A prisoner of love, thinking about what effect it would have on those I love and who love me.

I am sorry I delved into the sad life of Jack Kerouac, I should have just enjoyed his work and let it go at that.

Just before his marriage to Stella, Jack had visited Mary Carney, who was now married for a second time. Her daughter Judy, then twenty-one, remembers the morning clearly. ' My mother was hanging clothes out on the line in the back, and he asked her to marry him and she said, "No. You've never stopped drinking." He said, "You'll never see me again. I'm gonna leave here and I'm gonna drink myself to death." And he did. She always felt guilty about that.' According to Gregory Corso, 'Because he was a Catholic, he didn't want to commit suicide, but he wanted out.'
—Angel Headed Hipsters a biography by Steve Turner.

And for Amy, too
better to just let her voice linger
and know not much else that was going on.

I was just on the porch thinking how much simpler it was not knowing much
and the mind contained in a few child-like boxes, an ABC diet for day to day, no alphabets, ya know.

If I remember correctly Jan Kerouac refereed to him as "the old drunk" in Baby Driver

I was just on the porch thinking how much simpler it was not knowing much
and the mind contained in a few child-like boxes, an ABC diet for day to day, no alphabets, ya know.

For in much wisdom is much grief: and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow.

"I dunno, love, the idea now is to get rid of some of these things so we can move." Baby Driver Jan Kerouac

I keep thinking I have too much, this is a problem. Harder to appreciate what it is I love when surrounded. I should get some empty boxes and put 50% on the curb with a big marker job saying, "Free".

I'm only on page 28. She writes really well, too.

Sorrow to try to transform into some contraption to simulate joy.
But, I don't know why I'm saying this, cause Jack I am mostly happy, it's just the some times is all.

For in much wisdom is much grief: and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow.

TY, u, yes that is it and it's a truth.

Here is sorrow if you want it.

http://www.jackboulware.com/writing/the ... -obsession

Oh! man. I'm mixed up just reading that messy fight,
I mean if a thing like that gets so big it's eating people alive
and there's not but dark left...

anyway, that big they should donate the entirety out of good heart to a museum that generations of newbies, children and spiritual bodies, the wanna-bodies and poor can all smile from an opportunity to see it.

It's just my pennies worth. I don't likes to see when people hurt and feel hurt
or unworthy or that all the work they'd be forth was exhausted and not important enough, etc.

A sad story here, Jack.
I feel for it.

I wish Jan could have died more in peace than prolly all the worries of her health and family grievances. Just a dark cloud over what Jack might have intended for a message to those who wanted messages.

P.S.
I'm always a children first thinker.

I mean Damn!

women and children first


not sure if it is a true story or not
that there was a man dressed as a woman in one of the Titanic's lifeboats.

If I ever commit suicide it will be by sailboat.

Not spouses or girlfriends, maybe only the Mamas and sisters. But, for sure kids.
Might be just my point of view being divorced I'm to air my selection that way. Never did he come before the kids.

That was the tail end of summer--skip-to-my-lou sawdust butcher sidewalks and tenement humidity. I used to put peach pits in an old blue drawer in my apartment under the closet and tell Gail they attracted ghosts.

Baby Driver Jan. Kerouac.

I just think maybe she wrote this in helping her Dad to know her and bring him to where it was she'd wanted him.

I search in my heart for love for my father
I know he loved me

You are a wonder to love.
Just a great spirited bird and a rarity. ppp
Hard for me to imagine someone not loving you, jack.

Oh! you'll be mad to read this is the morning,
prolly wish I'd not say crazy girl things,
but it's not saying it from my crazy girl side
it's coming from the spirit part

and the being a parent,
an introvert and good things.

I think what has kept me from suicide is love. A prisoner of love, thinking about what effect it would have on those I love and who love me.

"As a dog returneth to his vomit, so a fool returneth to his folly."

About five years ago I had a cough from hell that would not go away. After about a month my sister-in-law a RN talked me into seeing a doctor
the x-rays showed a dwitzel down deep in my left lung
so they sent me for a cat scan
for the week I waited for the results my head was filled with thoughts of Virginia Woolf walking on a beach with her pocket full of rocks
the results were negative
so after a month of non smoking I went back to my vomit

about six months ago the cough was back
bronchitis this time took antibiotics and got all better

now my lungs are full of gunk again
wet snotty coughs
"pneumonia is the old man's friend" I have heard
my excuse is my family
I can't abide her without a cigarette
it works to calm me down

but it is a death wish I know
I maybe loveable
but a fool none the less
My only hope is the contraption mingo used
I can't live here without nicotine.