Put down the pen someone else gave you.
No one ever drafted a life worth living on borrowed ink.
Get to San Francisco.
Get to San Francisco in defiance of your geography, your ancestry, and the lonely change rattling sad excuses in your pocket.
Fuel up on pie and diner coffee and mystic visions and the freedom of not knowing what’s coming next except that you’re burning the road to outrun it.
— Jack KerouacPosted 1 year ago with 798 notes
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