I love the romance we’ve created about Beatniks. But it was the evolutions of culture.
The children of children of such stress, pain, war and depression.
They sprouted out and demanded attention in their small voices
that grew so loud in time and legend.
The Hippie Tribe are not their children, but they are cousins.
Beatniks would mock the hippies and all that has passed.
Beatniks… American white man walking in nihilism.
Beatniks… American business promoting beatniks to sell products and ideas
without understanding the social outcome.
Beatniks…soul-searching people whose immaturity adds romance to life, but is lost
when it comes to the reality of living.
Despite all their noble intentions, or their unrealistic rejection and mockery of society,
they are just a romantic memory, or in the case or Maynard G. Krebs, a loving, stereotype joke.
I hate to sound so harsh.
I just wish there was something that worked for everyone.
Dream on, honesty, dream on for that thing that give meaning to you.
I need to go to sleep…where I will dream a wonderful dream.