It's almost impossible to describe love as sweet as Jack Kerouac did. The right moment you discover your soulmate:
She had nothing to do but brood and get mad. I felt like putting my arms around her right away. We talked and talked. She said she loved to talk with me. [...] Without coming an agreement we began holding hands, and in the same way it was mutely and beautifully and purely decided that when I got my hotel room in LA she would be beside me. I ached all over for her; I ached all over for her; I leaned my head in her beautiful hair. Her little shoulders drove me mad; I hugged her and hugged her. And she loved it.
'I love love' she said, closing her eyes. I promised her beautiful love. I gloated over her. Our stories were told; we subsided into silence and sweet anticipatory thoughts. It was as simply as that. You could have all your Peaches and Bettys annd Marylous and Ritas and Camilles and Inezes in this world; this was my girl and my kind of girlsoul, and I told her that.
But someone wrote me someday something that makes me feel like Terry in that bus:
You're a plain white, cute, little lady of dreams in blue.
It's truly shorter... but sweet anyways.
PS: Good luck tomorrow.
She had nothing to do but brood and get mad. I felt like putting my arms around her right away. We talked and talked. She said she loved to talk with me. [...] Without coming an agreement we began holding hands, and in the same way it was mutely and beautifully and purely decided that when I got my hotel room in LA she would be beside me. I ached all over for her; I ached all over for her; I leaned my head in her beautiful hair. Her little shoulders drove me mad; I hugged her and hugged her. And she loved it.
'I love love' she said, closing her eyes. I promised her beautiful love. I gloated over her. Our stories were told; we subsided into silence and sweet anticipatory thoughts. It was as simply as that. You could have all your Peaches and Bettys annd Marylous and Ritas and Camilles and Inezes in this world; this was my girl and my kind of girlsoul, and I told her that.
But someone wrote me someday something that makes me feel like Terry in that bus:
You're a plain white, cute, little lady of dreams in blue.
It's truly shorter... but sweet anyways.
PS: Good luck tomorrow.
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