'Oh, You Can't Help That - We're All Mad Here'

‘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 like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars & in the middle you see the blue center light pop & everybody goes ‘Awww!’’

'On the Road', by Jack Kerouac

Because the only people to me are the mad ones.

Mad to live

Mad to love

Mad enough to make a difference, mad enough to change...

to change norms

to change sound

change litterature,

or what is considered litterature,

mad enough to change beauty

to change someone's dreams,

someone's words

or the youth of a whole generation.

The only people for me are the mad ones, mad enough

to love this world.

Yes, for me really the only people are the mad ones, the alive ones - burning like fabulous yellow roman candles making eveyone go 'awww'. The ones running after busses, after birds or dreams, the ones walking in the rain, talking to themselves. Mad enough to see possibilities in closed doors, beuty in trash, colours in sound, movement in words, the ones mad enough to find something worth loving in this world.

That's my kind of people.

Love

D.