Well, I have to say, I was slightly surprised at all the attention my last entry got. Ironic how my past entries I really wanted people to consider drew little attention or (apparent) emotion, yet my private rant to myself got a slew of "agrees". Oh well, not complaining. Now back to my normal stuff.

 

So, I know I rarely mention this largely out of little reason to and that it's not a choice for me to make, but why not make a statement about it anyway? To be fully honest, I've never understood makeup. A little, yes, I've been told, and, (I will admit) for some, it may help. But on the whole? I honestly think a natural look is downright more appealing. Makeup's always actually been a major turn off for me (not that anyone was entirely interested about that, anyway) and just seemed an unnecessary ordeal (all complaints and my own opinion included). Of course, this is utterly contrary to the world view (though, recent posts and my own emotional changes lately considered, that's not exactly a view I can agree with, for deep-running reasons). But eh, I can think in ideal terms, can I not? To quote you Lizzie, "Revolution". Heh, in a...slow...fashion? Mind-numbingly slow, it would seem.

 

In other news, I finally got a working domain for my site. Not ideal, but more easy to remember and simplier than what I had before. accept.co.nr

 

 

 

 

Well, I can - feel the soft silk - of your blouse
    and
Through them soft thrills of our little fun house
And the lights go out and it's just the three of us -
Yeah, you, me, and all that stuff we're - so scared of
Gotta ride down, baby - into this Tunnel of Love

Well, there's a - crazy mirror showing us both in 5D
    I'm
Laughing at you
    You're
Laughing at me
    There's a
Room of shadows that gets so dark, brother
    It's
Easy for two people to - lose each other
-Bruce Springsteen

I dreamed I stood upon a little hill,
And at my feet there lay a ground, that seemed
Like a waste garden, flowering at its will
With buds and blossoms. There were pools that dreamed
Black and unruffled; there were white lilies
A few, and crocuses, and violets
Purple or pale, snake-like fritillaries
Scarce seen for the rank grass, and through green nets
Blue eyes of shy peryenche winked in the sun.
And there were curious flowers, before unknown,
Flowers that were stained with moonlight, or with shades
Of Nature's willful moods; and here a one
That had drunk in the transitory tone
Of one brief moment in a sunset; blades
Of grass that in an hundred springs had been
Slowly but exquisitely nurtured by the stars,
And watered with the scented dew long cupped
In lilies, that for rays of sun had seen
Only God's glory, for never a sunrise mars
The luminous air of Heaven. Beyond, abrupt,
A grey stone wall. o'ergrown with velvet moss
Uprose; and gazing I stood long, all mazed
To see a place so strange, so sweet, so fair.
And as I stood and marvelled, lo! across
The garden came a youth; one hand he raised
To shield him from the sun, his wind-tossed hair
Was twined with flowers, and in his hand he bore
A purple bunch of bursting grapes, his eyes
Were clear as crystal, naked all was he,
White as the snow on pathless mountains frore,
Red were his lips as red wine-spilith that dyes
A marble floor, his brow chalcedony.
And he came near me, with his lips uncurled
And kind, and caught my hand and kissed my mouth,
And gave me grapes to eat, and said, 'Sweet friend,
Come I will show thee shadows of the world
And images of life. See from the South
Comes the pale pageant that hath never an end.'
And lo! within the garden of my dream
I saw two walking on a shining plain
Of golden light. The one did joyous seem
And fair and blooming, and a sweet refrain
Came from his lips; he sang of pretty maids
And joyous love of comely girl and boy,
His eyes were bright, and 'mid the dancing blades
Of golden grass his feet did trip for joy;
And in his hand he held an ivory lute
With strings of gold that were as maidens' hair,
And sang with voice as tuneful as a flute,
And round his neck three chains of roses were.
But he that was his comrade walked aside;
He was full sad and sweet, and his large eyes
Were strange with wondrous brightness, staring wide
With gazing; and he sighed with many sighs
That moved me, and his cheeks were wan and white
Like pallid lilies, and his lips were red
Like poppies, and his hands he clenched tight,
And yet again unclenched, and his head
Was wreathed with moon-flowers pale as lips of death.
A purple robe he wore, o'erwrought in gold
With the device of a great snake, whose breath
Was fiery flame: which when I did behold
I fell a-weeping, and I cried, 'Sweet youth,
Tell me why, sad and sighing, thou dost rove
These pleasent realms? I pray thee speak me sooth
What is thy name?' He said, 'My name is Love.'
Then straight the first did turn himself to me
And cried, 'He lieth, for his name is Shame,
But I am Love, and I was wont to be
Alone in this fair garden, till he came
Unasked by night; I am true Love, I fill
The hearts of boy and girl with mutual flame.'
Then sighing, said the other, 'Have thy will,
I am the love that dare not speak its name.'
-Lord Alfred Douglas

The sea is calm to-night.
The tide is full, the moon lies fair
Upon the straits; on the French coast the light
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand;
Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!
Only, from the long line of spray
Where the sea meets the moon-blanched land,
Listen! you hear the grating roar
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,
At their return, up the high strand,
Begin, and cease, and then again begin,
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring
The eternal note of sadness in.

Sophocles long ago
Heard it on the A gaean, and it brought
Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow
Of human misery; we
Find also in the sound a thought,
Hearing it by this distant northern sea.

The Sea of Faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
Retreating, to the breath
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world.

Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.
-Matthew Arnold

What is a quote that you live by?

You know, this is kinda perfect timing. I don't entirely live by it, but it's one of my favorite quotes from history (yes, I collect favorite quotes that people have said during historic situations): "Sir, I have not yet begun to fight!"

 

From http://www.plunderbund.com/2006/02/17/i-have-not-yet-begun-to-fight/:
On September 23, 1779, John Paul Jones was in a bloody battle for his life. His own ship The U.S.S. Bonhomme Richard was struggling with a 44 gun Royal Navy frigate known as “Serapis”. The battle was fierce and appeared over as Jones’ vessel was battle weary, burning, and sinking. In the midst of all this and as two of Jones’ cannons burst, the British commander yelled over to Jones and asked if he was ready to surrender. Conventional wisdom probably would agree that a surrender was in order. Jones eschewed such wisdom and instead yelled back, “Sir, I have not yet begun to fight”. 3 hours later the American crew boarded the Serapis and watched as the Bonhomme Richard sank into the sea.

And this is what we traditionally refer to as badass and epic.

I just answered this Featured Question; you can answer it too!

Screendoor slams...Mary's dress sways
Like a vision she dances across the porch as the radio plays
Roy Orbenson singing for the lonely...
Hey, that's me, girl, and I want you only
Don't turn me home again
I just can't face myself alone again...

Well, don't you run back inside, darling
You know just what I'm here for
So you're scared and you're thinking that
Maybe we're not that young anymore
Show a little faith - there's magic in the night
You ain't a beauty, but hey - you're alright

Oh, and that's alright with me

You can hide 'neath your covers and study your pain
Make crosses from your lovers, throw roses in the rain
Waste your summer praying in vain
For a savior to rise from these streets

Well, I ain't no hero - that's understood
All the redemption I can offer's beneath this dirty hood
With a chance to make it good somehow -
Baby, what else can we do now?
Except roll down the window and let the wind blow back your hair
Well, the night's busted open - these two lanes will take us any-where

We got one last chance to make it real
To trade in these wings-on-some-wheels
Climb in back
Heaven's waiting down on the track

So, oh, oh, come take my hand
We're riding out tonight to chase the promised land

Ohhh, oh, oh, oh Thunder Road!
Oh, Thunder Road, Thunder Road...

Lying out there like a killer in the sun!
Girl, I know it's late, but we can make it if we run

Oh, oh, oh, oh Thunder Road
Sit tight!
Take hold!
Thunder Road!

Well, I got this guitar, and I learned how to make it talk
Yeah, my car's out back if you're ready to take
That long walk

From your front porch to my front seat -
The door's open but, the ride, it ain't free

Now I know you're lonely for words that I ain't spoken -
But tonight we'll be free,
All the promises will be broken

Yeah, there were ghosts in the eyes of all them boys you sent away
They hunt this dusty beach road
Of skeloton dreams of burned out Chevolets...

They scream your name at night in the street
Your graduation gown lies in rags at their feet...

In the lonely cool before dawn...you hear their engines roaring on...

But when you get to the porch, they're gone on the wing...

So Mary climb in...
It's a town full of losers, baby
And we're pulling out of here to win...
-Bruce Springsteen

 

 

And I wrote that entirely from memory (more at my own surprise than anything). Night.

Just saw a xanga article titled Why Do People Think Christian Rap is Wack? Probably because you've removed the never-staying-within-societal-expectations and groundbreaking aspects of it, not to mention ripped it utterly from its roots and probably reject those roots as well. I wouldn't be surprised to find the quality sub-par as well. Harsh, but if you don't recognize what Rakim, Jay-Z, Nas, or Biggie did to advance the way we bother to look at lyricism or acknowledge the groundbreaking affect Dr. Dre's The Chronic had on producing, I'm not going to take you seriously as an emcee (and if you cannot tell me the origins of that word and how it pertains to my current usage...yeah, you get the point).

I was going to say something for this post, but I've forgotten. I should be doing hw anyway.

Seems like I've been able to just let lyrics speak for myself these days...

Well, papa, go to bed now -
It's getting late
Nothing we can say is gonna change anything now

I'll be leaving in the morning
From St. Mary's Gate
We wouldn't change this thing even if we could somehow

There's a darkness of this house that's got the best of us
There's a darkness in this town that's got us too

But they can't touch me now
And you can't touch me now
They ain't gonna do to me what I watched them do to you

So, say goodbye; it's Independence Day
It's Independence Day all down the line...

Just say goodbye; it's Independence Day
It's Independence Day this time...

Now, I don't know what it always was with us
We chose the words
And, yeah, we drew the lines

There was just no way this house
Could hold the two of us
I guess that we were just too much of the same kind

Well, say goodbye; it's Independence Day
It's Independence Day
All boys must run away

So say goodbye; it's Independence Day
All men must make their way
Come Independence Day

[Sax solo]

Now the rooms are all empty down at Frankie's joint
And the highway, she's deserted
Clear down to Breaker's Point

There's a lot of people leaving town now
Leavin' their friends and their homes
At night they walk that dark and dusty highway all alone

So papa, go to bed now
It's getting late
Nothing we can say can change anything now

'Cause there's just different people comin' down here now
And they see things in different ways
And soon everything you've known will just be swept away

So say goodbye; it's Independence Day
Papa, now, I know the things you wanted
That you could not say

But won't you just say goodbye?
It's Independence Day
I swear I never meant to take those things away...
-Bruce Springsteen

If I'm to die for a reason, let it be because I did not do enough.

Why do we dream, Erin? I feel like I'm lying, sometimes.

Well, John Henry was a little baby
Sittin' on his daddy's knee
He picked up a hammer and a little piece of steel
And cried, "Hammer's gonna be death of me, Lord, Lord,
     Hammer's gonna be the death of me"

Now, the captain, he said to John Henry,
"I'm gonna bring that steam drill around
I'm gonna bring that steam drill out on these tracks
I'm gonna knock that steel on down, God, God,
     I'm gonna knock that steel on down"

John Henry told his captain,
"Lord, a man ain't nothin' but a man
But, before I let that steam drill beat me down,
I'm gonna die with a hammer in my hand, Lord, Lord,
     I'll die with a hammer in my hand"

John Henry driving on the right side,
That steam drill driving on the left
Says, "'Fore I let your steam drill beat me down,
I'm gonna hammer myself to death, Lord, Lord,
     I'll hammer my fool self to death"

John Henry said to his shaker,
"Shaker, why don't you sing?
'Cause I'm swingin' thirty pounds from my hips on down

 

John Henry, he hammered in the mountains
His hammer was striking fire
But he worked so hard, it broke his heart
John Henry laid down his hammer and died, Lord, Lord,
     John Henry laid down his hammer and died

Well now, John Henry, he had him a woman
By the name of Polly Ann
She walked out to those tracks and picked up John Henry's hammer
Polly drove steel like a man, Lord, Lord,
     Polly drove that steel like a man

John Henry hammering on the mountain
As the whistle blew for half past two
The last word I heard him say,
"Captain, I've hammered my insides in two, Lord, Lord,
     I've hammered my insides in two
I say, I've hammered my insides in two, Lord, Lord,
     I've hammered my insides in two"

I want my next short story to focus on hands, I've decided. I'm not entirely sure why I have this minor obsession on them. But, for another time. I should finish up my hw right now.

You do the dryin'
     I'll do the dishes
Who'll do the cryin'
     when all them wishes don't come true?

You do the washing
     I'll do the folding
Whose heart is breaking?
     And whose arms are holding someone new?
Sittin' on a peaceful lakeside

Didn't hear the roar of the waterfall come in
When it's all a sorry mixed story
When it's all so easy and nice -

Here comes trouble in Paradise...

You did the dusting
     I did the sweeping
You did the driving
     Oh, and I did the sleeping a little too long
On a picnic made for skies so blue

You didn't see the rain and heartache comin' through
When it's all an old black and white movie
And you're sure you've seen the ending twice

Here comes trouble in Paradise

You said everything was fine
I'm sorry, baby, I didn't see the signs
Ohh, so beautifully you read your lines...
In a play where the hero has no vice
And love comes without a price

So does trouble in Paradise...
-Bruce Springsteen

It was a good day, up to the end where all visible lines smeared. "Why can't life be easy?" Free will and luck. Yet even I could say that's a pretty crap-ass answer. There is an afterlife, there is an afterlife, there is an afterlife.... (that's my brand of humor, btw)

I had a ton I wanted to say in this entry and now I can't think of anything. Oh well.

You know, I honestly think Tommy is very smart and incredibly insightful. But he makes so many rash and not smart decisions way too often. Gotta love the kid anyway, though.

I was talking to this pretty cool today when I went to see my friend. We were discussing parenting (which was actually intensely amusing) and she mentioned that she wouldn't be ready because it means living for someone else and not just yourself, something she was not at all ready for yet. And I responded, "Well, yes, but aren't you already living for others?" And I already knew the distinction before saying it, though. It's your viewpoint on life - are you thinking about how you ought to be justly treated or are you thinking how you should justly act towards each person? I wouldn't be ready for a kid at this point - it's physically impossible to keep after the child when I'm struggling to take after myself at the moment.

I attended Mass today because Father Caster will be gone tomorrow. And the times for St. Patrick's are far too early for me to even hope to wake up on time Sunday. It was really nice. I was watching the alter servers, because (having done it for God knows how many years and having had to often be the one to instruct the younger kids on how to do it (more than often my brother and sister)) I like to see how they do, whether they seem to be enjoying the job. It's honestly one of the only things I can really say my mother did right, making me join alter serving. I love it. It has something to do with the Catholic church as well but when you're walking down that aisle it just becomes you're in control. One of those few places where, yeah, there're probably a ton of eyes on me and yet I'm in my own place, just feeling in myself, "I'm home."

You're lucky, Tommy. You know what you want, clearly - even know how to go about it, relatively.

Dark weekends in the sun
     out on Chelsea rode
Descending the stairs
     Ah, Frankie, my world
Check your makeup in the mirror
     C'mon, babe, let's go
We'll dance 'round this dirty town
     'til the night is all done

Let all the finer things sleep alone tonight
Let all the minor kings lose their thrones tonight
Don't worry 'bout us baby,
     we'll be alright...
-Bruce Springsteen

I'll have to show you Gurnee sometimes. Gages Lake, the Woodland schools, Grays Lake - Hell, even Warren Township. Oh, and library. Geez, that library could be a bibliophile's dream (alright, maybe it's just satisfactory, but I'm nostalgic at the moment...).

I don't exactly know why but it was always like even the most frequented of places had so much nature maintained. There're just fields next to that library. And the park, next to the youth center, was always fun to just bike ride out to. There's trails and trails of confusing and unknown neighborhoods to ride through. Occasionally you'd get to just a pile of dirt to ride all over from some construction. Or you'd just get to a nature preserve, tranquil and quiet. And the Gurnee mall, of course. Not nearly as utterly satisfying to trail around all day with a friend in as the mall in Evanston (I've gotta take you there someday as well. Northwestern, the park, just the neighborhoods...).

I dunno. There was something about Gurnee that was just capturing. A peace that only nature could give you yet is unending in its empty parking lots and empty buildings. Just gotta see it.

ACT TWO

19. Herculine Barbin

DIONYSOS appears to DEREK and stays throughout the scene.

DEREK is exercising with weights.

DEREK.         (to audience). He thought he wasn't a man without
                   a job.

                   HERCULINE BARBIN enters. She is played by a
                   woman but dressed in the clothes of a Frenchman
                   of the nineteenth century.

                   While she talks she gives DEREK objects from her
                   past which she takes from a small suitcase.

HERCULINE.   Couldn't I have stayed with her? No one was
                   stopping us, I was the one who - and afterwards
                   it would even have been legal, she still loved me
                   then, I must have lost my mind for a while. Blame
                   her mother, (Gives a book.) refusing to notice,
                   have some apricot tart children, my daughter's
                   dearest friend, a daughter to me, goodbye dear
                   daughter, goodbye. Why didn't I keep a hold of
                   those hands? Blame yourself, kill yourself.

                   Abel Barbin, suicide, they'll find the body of a
                   man in the morning, no one will doubt it. Was
                   I really Herculine Barbin, playing by the sea,
                   starting school at the convent, nobody doubted
                   I was a girl. Hermaphrodite, the doctors were
                   fascinated, how to define this body, does it
                   fascinate you, it doesn't fascinate me, let it die.

                   Where are the girls I loved? They go on not
                   appearing every minute, sometimes it eases, often
                   what I am saying often it eases completely, oh it's
                   not like it was I can have a good - an eyelid, the
                   fall of a skirt, a startling tenderness at the next
                   table, and gone again, all my loves and Sara, Sara
                   and the air, you don't notice your breath till
                   something stops it.

                   I had schools, I had nuns, I had girls I loved even
                   only a little, no, wholly each time but more and -
                   Lea, so old, seventeen, I was twelve, leaning on
                   me in the garden, I took her a pretty crucifix at
                   night, (Gives a rose.) Mother Superior made me
                   cry. Was I really a lady's maid, undressing
                   Clothilde, combing her hair, it was my job, she
                   got married, no one worried about my body, my
                   periods would come in time.

                   Hair on my face and arms, cut it with scissors,
                   worse; I kissed Thecla on the mouth. Clever with
                   books, clumsy at sewing, lightning struck, leapt
                   out of bed naked into the nun's arms, feelings of
                   shame I didn't understand. Sinking in sand (Gives
                   scissors and a comb.) up to our knees, laughing,
                   three in a bed, they took off their skirts and tucked
                   up their petticoats, the water splashed high, I was
                   the only one who stayed on the beach.

                   Where it led, to Sara, I wouldn't let her get dressed
                   without me, stroked her hair, kissed her neck, she
                   put my hand aside and gazed in amazement.
                   Mysterious pains, (Gives crucifix.) she took me
                   into her bed to comfort me, god, Sara was mine,
                   romantic words, Sara is mine, nobody knew, this
                   lasted a long time, the children watched, her hair
                   fell down. In the middle of class she would smile
                   at me.

                   The pains, the doctor, I screamed, he could hardly
                   speak, but still he didn't stop us, her mother didn't,
                   nobody would admit, I did it myself in the
                   vacation, did I have to? The bishop, very kind, his
                   own doctor, yes I should be declared a man, (Gives
                   the lace shawl.) the documents. Sara's grief, have
                   some tart dear daughter, couldn't I have asked to
                   marry her, goodbye dear daughter, how to hold my
                   body as a man.

                   Soon less jeering, job in the railroad, long time
                   with no job, sit in the cafés and see who loves
                   who, at least I'm not a man like the men I see.
                   (Gives the petticoat.) Maybe waiter's assistant on
                   ship to America, what to do, everyone thought it
                   must be something good to take me so far away.

                   Into the unknown, like now, breathing in fumes,
                   soon dead, how to get back, all the girls' bodies,
                   Sara's body, my girl's body, all lost, couldn't you
                   have stayed?

                   DEREK holds all the objects and has dressed
                   himself in the shawl and petticoat. He sits in the
                   chair and becomes HERCULINE,

                   She stands beside him and takes the objects from
                   him and packs them into her suitcase.

DEREK.         Couldn't I have stayed with her? No one was
                   stopping us, I was the one who - and afterwards
                   it would even have been legal, she still loved me
                   then, I must have lost my mind for a while. Blame
                   her mother, refusing to notice, have some apricot
                   tart children, my daughter's dearest friend, a
                   daughter to me, goodbye dear daughter, goodbye.
                   Why didn't I keep a hold of those hands? Blame
                   yourself, kill yourself.

                   Abel Barbin, suicide, they'll find the body of a
                   man in the morning, no one will doubt it. Was
                   I really Herculine Barbin, playing by the sea,
                   starting school at the convent, nobody doubted
                   I was a girl. Hermaphrodite, the doctors were
                   fascinated, how to define this body, does it
                   fascinate you, it doesn't fascinate me, let it die.

HERCULINE.   What's the matter? Be happy. You know I love
                   you.

DEREK.         Where are the girls I loved? They go on not
                   appearing every minute, sometimes it eases, often
                   what I am saying often it eases completely, oh it's
                   not like it was I can have a good - an eyelid, the
                   fall of a

HERCULINE.   Lea, I love you.

DEREK.         skirt, a startling tenderness at the next table, and
                   gone again, (Takes away the rose.) all my loves
                   and Sara, Sara and the air, you don't notice your
                   breath till something stops it.

                   I had schools, I had nuns, I had girls I loved even
                   only a little, no, wholly each time but more and -
                   Lea, so old, seventeen, I was twelve, leaning on
                   me in the garden, I took her a pretty crucifix at
                   night, Mother Superior made me cry. Was I really
                   a lady's maid, undressing Clothilde, combing her
                   hair, it was my job, she got married, no one
                   worried about my body, my periods would come
                   in time.

HERCULINE.   May you be happy later, poor child.

DEREK.         Hair on my face and arms, cut it with scissors,
                   worse; (Takes the book.)

HERCULINE.   I'm sorry to hurt you, once more, nearly over.

DEREK.         I kissed Thecla on the mouth. Clever with books,
                   clumsy at sewing, lightning struck, leapt out of
                   bed naked into the nun's arms, feelings of shame
                   I didn't understand. Sinking in sand up to our
                   knees, (Takes the scissors and comb.)

HERCULINE.   Modesty, morality and the respect you owe a
                   religious house.

DEREK.         laughing, three in a bed, they took off their skirts
                   and tucked up their petticoats, the water splashed
                   high, I was the only one who stayed on the beach.
                   Where it led, to Sara,

HERCULINE.   Herculine! come in the water.

DEREK.         I wouldn't let her get dressed without me, stroked
                   her hair, kissed her neck, she put my hand aside
                   and gazed in amazement. Mysterious pains, she
                   took me into her bed to comfort me, god, Sara was
                   mine, romantic words, Sara is mine, (Takes the
                   crucifix.) nobody knew, this lasted a long time, the
                   children watched, her hair fell down. In the middle
                   of class she would smile at me.

HERCULINE.   I've made you an apricot tart.

DEREK.         The pains, the doctor, I screamed, he could hardly
                   speak, but still he didn't stop us, her mother didn't,
                   nobody would admit, I did it myself in the
                   vacation, did I have to? The bishop, very kind, his
                   own doctor, yes I should be declared a man,the
                   documents. Sara's grief, have some tart dear
                   daughter, couldn't I have asked to marry her,
                   goodbye dear daughter, (Takes the lace shawl.)

HERCULINE.   Goodbye, dear daughter.

DEREK.         how to hold my body as a man.

                   Soon less jeering, job in the railroad, long time
                   with no job, sit in the cafés and see who loves
                   who, at least I'm not a man like the men I see.
                   Maybe waiter's assistant on ship to America, what
                   to do, everyone thought it must be something good
                   to take me so far away.

                   Into the unknown, like now, breathing in fumes,
                   soon dead, how to get back, all the girls' bodies,
                   (Takes the petticoat.) Sara's body, my girl's body,
                   all lost,

                   HERCULINE starts to go.

DEREK.         couldn't you have stayed?

                   HERCULINE turns back and kisses him on the
                   neck.

When I saw this, I couldn't help but to save it. I had planned on posting it, but you beat me to it, Lizzie.

It's so...fitting, in what it accomplishes. The feelings it hits nail Catcher In the Rye perfectly.

Because, the thing was, we should never have wanted to be like Holden.

We were Holden.

The book has no answers. Have you ever read one of Salinger's short stories? There's no happy ending.

It's us - all the angst from being emotionally unstable, in a world we want so badly to be perfect yet can never seem to be that way, yearning for a reality that is not our own. And no one having a shitting clue about those thoughts that go through our head.

We sit there wishing for that emotional break down, we want them dearly. Because, that's all we've really got to feeling alive. Everything just feels real at that point. And maybe's its those few moments when we just know what we're feeling and what we want (whether a full-blown breakdown or just a daily emotion) - that's all we need.

I don't think anyone wants to stay at that place (nor do I necessarily think that's where we're condemned). But we never wanted to be Holden. He just spoke for us so eloquently.