Raise High the Roofbeam, Carpenters

It’s a sad day today. It really is. And it’s sad in an unbelievable way that I can’t quite understand myself.
It’s not only because J.D. Salinger died, but it’s because it’s almost as if Holden has died too.
Holden Caulfield was, like, the exact replicate of absolutely everybody in the entire world. He was a hypocritical liar who knew he was a hypocrite but lied about knowing it. He hated phonies and people who conformed, yet he was the biggest phony around. And I think he knew this, but instead of admitting it, he chose to complain and obsess over it. Naturally increasing his phoniness.

We're all like that though, really. We all know who we are, deep down inside. We're never really confused; we're just trying to change. I think everybody has to reach that point in their lives eventually when they can finally accept themselves for who they are. And when they do that, they can begin to accept the people around them. You can bend and alter and sugar-coat anything you want, but it's still there underneath all the crap. You know it's there. And you know that you're doing yourself no good at hiding it, but you continue to pile nonsense on top of the truth. Until, of course, everything is unveiled and you're standing there, naked, alone and scared, for perhaps the first time in your life. It's shocking and it's terrifying, but it's life, really.

And that’s what Holden eventually realised, I think, when he was crossing the street and he felt like he was disappearing. That he was falling into something beyond his control.

I don’t know. I’m rambling now. Rest in Peace, J.D. Salinger.
Rest in Peace, Holden Caulfield.

Well, I Don't Got No Reasons.

I don't particularly have anything at all of interest to share at the moment.

I've just been spending a lot of time procrastinating about absolutely everything. Drinking too much beer, yet trying to eat surprisingly healthy (not sure about that logic).
I started writing a story the other day and it was pretty much over before it had begun. I tend to do that. With a lot of things, I suppose.
I'm just getting the bus to work, doing my job, coming home and waiting for something to happen.

Nothing is happening. Yet.

A New Leaf (I suppose).

2010.
I think we put too much pressure on ourselves in a New Year. It’s like we expect that because the year is different, that we should be different. Things should be different. Better, more exciting, less of a hassle. It would be great if this were true. But we always try, anyway.

I didn’t spend New Years the way I had expected. But in the end, I’m happy with the way it turned out. I got to spend time with people that make me happy and I didn’t do anything I regret. I’m not going to say that’s a first, but it’s not very often that I have nights like that lately.

I used New Years this year as an excuse to let it go. The things that were holding me back last year. The things that had me holding onto a string that doesn’t even exist. The things that had me up at 3am hoping for. I mean, I’m wasting my time. I need to learn to let it go. If I’m not getting the answers or results that I want, then it’s not worth it. I put up my fight and I lost, and I accept that. Finally.

I'm leaving denial and desperation in 2009.