Back in BK

We are home. We left Thursday around 8, drove to Virginia, slept and ate lunch at my Grandmas and then drove the rest of the way. We got stoned and Pete and I both stood on the edge of madness for several hours, monitoring the beats of our hearts and trying to quiet our brains. Life is big and strange and empty. We just drove most of the eastern coast of this great nation and for the most part all I remember are gas stations, billboards for porcelain dolls or South of the Border, and a whole shit-ton of McDonalds. Road trips like this remind me why I love reading On The Road over and over again. That book is all motion and fire and real human discussion with the narrator. It would be hard to do that now without ignoring the fact that as you drive anywhere in this great land you are constantly being shouted at from billboards, taunted by the suggestions presented as necessary purchases. When you make a mental point to notice how often we are presented with opportunities to spend money, how often we are told by advertisements what will make us feel better at that moment, the reality of it is scary and dark and menacing. The landscape of America is one giant advertisement for fucking cheeseburgers.