My friend and I took a bus to florida from Montana and then took two weeks driving back. My aunt asked me where I went and when I told her she bought me the book, On the Road. My husband and I are reading it together now, four years later. And I wonder what makes you beat? Is this how you define yourself? I am not being snide I am seriously wondering. I have being looking for a long time and I wonder if I will ever know who I am. It drives me crazy sometimes. And judging from a Kerouac biography I just got and havent really started yet... I just read the back cover, he felt the same way I do. Any thoughts?