Here's to you Mr. Kerouac

Somewhere along last night my pissed-offedness turned into a useful anger in which I felt very assertive and in a way that made me feel like, "Hey, I'm doing this. If you don't like it too bad." And I mean "this" as in, pursuing whatever I want without over thinking it and worrying about things that could go wrong. Basically, I am sick of worrying about what-ifs. And it feels good now.

. . .because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn. . .