I Think of Dean Moriarty.....

This is my second trip on the road. Age and experience made this trip much more wonderful than the first time around. I felt the sense of searching deep in my bones. I cannot even begin to describe the amazing use of language, but to use Kerouac's style and phrasings: his words blew blew blew from his horn like magic, sweat poring down in a Benzedrine rush, he was mad, mad with a sweet maniacal laugh, the mood just burned burned burned......