lines

I picked up Kerouac's "On the Road" this weekend past, prompted by the 40th anniversary of his death; the departure of a friend's son to the States; and a general wanderlust... Not read him since school, oh, 23 years long ago. I don't remember him being so sweet - so innocent - so wide eyed. I must have been drawn to other aspects of his writing. Or maybe it was just sheer longing.

So, wafted into the Angel pub (Holborn) on Sunday night, to write a letter to a friend in San Francisco. It was quiet in the pub, and I was vaguely aware of a young pair that wandered in after me as I started writing: I sensed an attraction between them - flirtatious, somewhat coy. Anyway, I carried on writing.

My ears pricked when I heard her say "tell me something" - "what?" - "anything!" - the little coquette - I recognised this sly tactic...

So, he said he had had cancer two years ago... oh, she says... I drift out - and drift in and hear her say her boyfriend has asked to marry her - I sigh inwardly, how tiresome. Their conversation turns a little spiky... I still haven't looked up - and I soon forget them, immersed in writing.

I get another beer, and start writing again: I hear her ask "tell me something - what? - anything!". Again. He says he had cancer two years ago - good for him - that's perhaps how I would have responded too; perhaps.... I'm listening now - feigning reverie - and ... the conversation starts repeating itself. I thought I was going mad - I looked up - they were two drama students, reciting from a script.... it threw me for some time...

I've wondered whether it is possible to abandon scripts all together, and inhabit some kind of non-narrative, or even anti-narrative dimension; that thought, or perhaps wish, may have just been ... an escape ... from myself? But then I do seem to have an episodic existence - don't underestimate the tyranny of narrative - so perhaps that plain is where I will be dwelling more and more.

Anyway; Tonight I'm in a hotel in Peterborough, an entire town without a script. I managed to give my colleagues the slip, at least until my team bonding session tomorrow. Earlier, I was pleased to be under the waterline, in a bar, in a listing barge, listening to Bark Psychosis (honest).

Anyway; Don't follow scripts.