"I want to catch life with all of me, hurling myself into its way. I want to run hard and run..."

"I want to catch life with all of me, hurling myself into its way. I want to run hard and run fast—but I also want to feel the ridges in linoleum as the million nerve endings of my fingertip slowly glide over them, as the horizon fades to black and I rush to scrub the floors before my dorm chore is due. In each moment, being there. Kerouac said the only people for him were the mad ones, who "burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars…" I want to be mad, if madness means being the kind of person who sees the glory of living. That is, if madness means being truly sane. I want to be quiet; wonderful in my wondering, too. Isn't part of the grandness of being human the opportunity to perceive the grandness of our contexts? Victor Hugo wrote, "In the vast cosmic changes, universal life comes and goes…rolling everything up in the invisible mystery…" He saw the big scheme, how parts relate to the story of the ages. Everything "blossoms" for God: "The evolutions of the comet in the firmament to the circling of the protozoa in a drop of water." I want to note these things. I want to embrace the whole, and the sum of the smaller parts. Bring on the wonder."