It's a beautiful reciprocal arrangement. And it isn't education. It's history. It's poetry.
Y'know, sometimes I get so caught up in posting things that mean something, I forget what a journal is, I forget that's I can post whatever the hell I want, even if it's about something stupid like me fixing the goddamn leaky faucet. I forget about all the mundane stuff, I really do.
Thing is, no one ever really gets remembered for saying stuff like "I fixed the goddamn leaky faucet today". No one really gives about that kind of stuff. It's like you need to be a poet for anyone to care about what you're saying. People forget, though, that we've all got leaky faucets, and no one ever bothers to fix them, partly because they don't know how. But there's always that one guy, that one person who stops being lazy and fixes the goddamn faucet, and no one cares about him, because all he did was fix a goddamn faucet. But take all the people ignoring him, and you'll see that they've all got leaky faucets, and so does that stupid poet they're all listening to. Those jerks will always have a leaky faucet, wasting all the goddamn water.
This morning I found out J.D. Salinger died. Everyone's pretending to be all sad about it it, saying stuff like, "Aw, that's sad," but none of them really mean it. None of them could care less, because most of them didn't know the guy's name until this morning, and those who do only remember because they were forced to read his goddamn book in high school. Not me, though. I read The Catcher in the Rye all by myself, read it 6 times, actually, I really did. It's my favorite book, and that's saying a lot, because I'm a pretty big fan of Oscar Wilde, so you'd think something like The Picture of Dorian Gray would be my favorite book. But it's not, my favorite is still the goddamn Catcher in the Rye. I know a lot of people who hate every goddamn word of it, but I don't think they get it, I really don't. They think it's all about some kid who swears too goddamn much and thinks about stupid stuff that doesn't really matter, end of story. They don't get it.
I know what it's really about, though. What it's really about, is a kid who sees everyone for who they really are, y'know? And he doesn't really know what the hell he wants, but he knows he's not getting it, with all of those phony jerks going around all over the place like they know what really matters. They don't really know what the hell they want either, but they're gonna keep acting like they already have it, just so they can make themselves seem superior and all that jazz. This kid, though, he sees right through them, and he doesn't like any of them. He doesn't like much of anything, really but that's because everyone around him is a goddamn phony jerk, that's why. No one's genuine and he sees that. Tell you what, though, I know what he does like, what he really wants. He likes innocence, he likes genuine people who aren't phony and who won't act like jerks just to make everyone like them, that's what he likes, that's what he wants, and that's what he's looking for but just can't seem to find.
His little sister, though, she gets it. She's just like him, in a lot of ways. She wants something more. That's why she's always got a new middle name every goddamn time he sees her. And she, she's got everything this kid is looking for. She's genuine, for one, she really is. And she'll call this kid out when he's being a jerk, too. Most of all, though, she's innocent. She likes to act like she's all grown up and all, but she's still a child, she's still got those innocent qualities. She still likes riding the goddamn carousel and all that. And that whole fantasy he has about being the catcher in the rye, about saving all those goddamn kids before they fall off the cliff, what he's really thinking about is preserving innocence, saving those kids while they're still good, before they go all rotten and phony like everyone else does when they get older. Anyway, this kid just can't seem to find a genuine, innocent person, but he finds it in his little sister, and that's why he likes her so much more than everyone else. I don't think he gets it, though, because he still doesn't know what the hell he wants, so he doesn't know when he's found it. At the end, though, he still isn't happy, he really isn't.
So I found out this morning that the guy who wrote this goddamn book, J.D. Salinger, just died. And everyone else is pretending to be sad about it and just go about their day, but not me. I'm sitting here practically bawling like a goddamn leaky faucet, I mean, guy wrote my favorite goddamn book. But it's not just that, though, it's not just that he wrote my favorite book, what it is, though, is I get it. Or maybe it's not even that I get it, maybe it's that he gets it. Or got it. I mean, you read this book and it actually sounds like a goddamn potty-mouthed 17-year-old kid, not the 32-year-old man who actually wrote it. And since it's actually written from the point of view of some confused kid, he manages to get his point across, that he gets it, he understands what it's like being some confused kid, not knowing what the hell you want but knowing that you want something a hell of a lot more than what's around you. He gets it. That's why it's my favorite goddamn book, because I'm a confused kid, I don't know what the hell I want, but I do know that I want something more, because what I do want, I'm sure as hell not getting where I am now. I'm really not. And I'm a lot like this kid in the book, because looking back on all I've had, I see that sometimes, I've had exactly what I want, exactly what I'm looking for. I'm still not goddamn happy, though, I'm really not.
So that's why I'm here, bawling my goddamn eyes out. Not because the guy who wrote my goddamn favorite book died, but because this world just lost one of the few guys who gets it, who gets me. I feel like I lost my goddamn best friend. It's not right, it really isn't.
Don't ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody.
J.D. Salinger
1919-2010
XoxO
Maggie Monster ™
Thing is, no one ever really gets remembered for saying stuff like "I fixed the goddamn leaky faucet today". No one really gives about that kind of stuff. It's like you need to be a poet for anyone to care about what you're saying. People forget, though, that we've all got leaky faucets, and no one ever bothers to fix them, partly because they don't know how. But there's always that one guy, that one person who stops being lazy and fixes the goddamn faucet, and no one cares about him, because all he did was fix a goddamn faucet. But take all the people ignoring him, and you'll see that they've all got leaky faucets, and so does that stupid poet they're all listening to. Those jerks will always have a leaky faucet, wasting all the goddamn water.
This morning I found out J.D. Salinger died. Everyone's pretending to be all sad about it it, saying stuff like, "Aw, that's sad," but none of them really mean it. None of them could care less, because most of them didn't know the guy's name until this morning, and those who do only remember because they were forced to read his goddamn book in high school. Not me, though. I read The Catcher in the Rye all by myself, read it 6 times, actually, I really did. It's my favorite book, and that's saying a lot, because I'm a pretty big fan of Oscar Wilde, so you'd think something like The Picture of Dorian Gray would be my favorite book. But it's not, my favorite is still the goddamn Catcher in the Rye. I know a lot of people who hate every goddamn word of it, but I don't think they get it, I really don't. They think it's all about some kid who swears too goddamn much and thinks about stupid stuff that doesn't really matter, end of story. They don't get it.
I know what it's really about, though. What it's really about, is a kid who sees everyone for who they really are, y'know? And he doesn't really know what the hell he wants, but he knows he's not getting it, with all of those phony jerks going around all over the place like they know what really matters. They don't really know what the hell they want either, but they're gonna keep acting like they already have it, just so they can make themselves seem superior and all that jazz. This kid, though, he sees right through them, and he doesn't like any of them. He doesn't like much of anything, really but that's because everyone around him is a goddamn phony jerk, that's why. No one's genuine and he sees that. Tell you what, though, I know what he does like, what he really wants. He likes innocence, he likes genuine people who aren't phony and who won't act like jerks just to make everyone like them, that's what he likes, that's what he wants, and that's what he's looking for but just can't seem to find.
His little sister, though, she gets it. She's just like him, in a lot of ways. She wants something more. That's why she's always got a new middle name every goddamn time he sees her. And she, she's got everything this kid is looking for. She's genuine, for one, she really is. And she'll call this kid out when he's being a jerk, too. Most of all, though, she's innocent. She likes to act like she's all grown up and all, but she's still a child, she's still got those innocent qualities. She still likes riding the goddamn carousel and all that. And that whole fantasy he has about being the catcher in the rye, about saving all those goddamn kids before they fall off the cliff, what he's really thinking about is preserving innocence, saving those kids while they're still good, before they go all rotten and phony like everyone else does when they get older. Anyway, this kid just can't seem to find a genuine, innocent person, but he finds it in his little sister, and that's why he likes her so much more than everyone else. I don't think he gets it, though, because he still doesn't know what the hell he wants, so he doesn't know when he's found it. At the end, though, he still isn't happy, he really isn't.
So I found out this morning that the guy who wrote this goddamn book, J.D. Salinger, just died. And everyone else is pretending to be sad about it and just go about their day, but not me. I'm sitting here practically bawling like a goddamn leaky faucet, I mean, guy wrote my favorite goddamn book. But it's not just that, though, it's not just that he wrote my favorite book, what it is, though, is I get it. Or maybe it's not even that I get it, maybe it's that he gets it. Or got it. I mean, you read this book and it actually sounds like a goddamn potty-mouthed 17-year-old kid, not the 32-year-old man who actually wrote it. And since it's actually written from the point of view of some confused kid, he manages to get his point across, that he gets it, he understands what it's like being some confused kid, not knowing what the hell you want but knowing that you want something a hell of a lot more than what's around you. He gets it. That's why it's my favorite goddamn book, because I'm a confused kid, I don't know what the hell I want, but I do know that I want something more, because what I do want, I'm sure as hell not getting where I am now. I'm really not. And I'm a lot like this kid in the book, because looking back on all I've had, I see that sometimes, I've had exactly what I want, exactly what I'm looking for. I'm still not goddamn happy, though, I'm really not.
So that's why I'm here, bawling my goddamn eyes out. Not because the guy who wrote my goddamn favorite book died, but because this world just lost one of the few guys who gets it, who gets me. I feel like I lost my goddamn best friend. It's not right, it really isn't.
Don't ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody.
J.D. Salinger
1919-2010
XoxO
Maggie Monster ™