Madness

"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, like fabulous yellow Roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!" - Jack Kerouac

Is he talking about passion? The rare kind, the same kind I have never ever felt and will never ever have the chance to feel? That wonderful feeling of positivism towards every undertaking; an overflowing enthusiasm that takes hold of one's being so he could climb the top and believe faithfully that he'll stay there for a long time? That insatiable confidence in the abilities and talents he possesses? Like what he has is something so unique that he considers it, not the best, but incomparable? The undying belief that if a bad thing happen, there must be something really good to come?

Or is he talking about plain madness? The kind that had always been inherent in me? That feeling of unexplainable fright to do or take something, because it's so damn hard, but I'll do it anyway because I'm so used to failures already that another one would hardly make any difference. Giving all you've got, even if it pales in comparison with what others have, even if it's so tiring and frustrating, just to show you are able and finding out in the end that, well, it's good enough. And you're so proud of yourself that you start thanking all the people who have become a part of your life, including those who didn't play a big part in your success; even those who have been critical of you or doubtful in your abilities; even those who have just lend you his/her ballpen once... you suddenly love the humanity you once abhor...

I think I really didn't understand the quote.... oh well. I'll just pick an easier one later. hehe.. like, time is gold.. yeah... that will do.