I'm completely drawn to the writings of Jack Kerouac, but I get FRUSTRATED with the childlike wonder that springs from a combination of naivety or self conceived idealism. Kerouac was always learning, but each experience may not hold a novel lesson, just one he never completely grasps.
I understand the wanderlust of Christopher McCandless, but I don't understand what he was trying to prove, and if he wasn't trying to prove anything, what was the purposed of making life so hard. I'm not thinking straight right now.
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