Thursday, August 25, 2011
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Saturday, June 19, 2010
At times, I envy them but usually I do not understand them…
And seldom do they understand me.
I am one of those searchers.
There are, I believe, millions of us. We are not unhappy, but neither are we completely content.
We continue to explore ourselves, hoping to understand.
We like to walk along the beach; we are drawn to the ocean, taken by its power and unceasing motion, its mystery and unspeakable beauty.
We like forests, mountains, deserts, hidden rivers, and lovely cities as well. Our sadness is as much a part of our lives as our laughter. We are ambitious only for life itself and for anything beautiful it can provide.
Most of all, we want to love and be loved, to live in a relationship that will not impede our wanderings and prevent our search.
We do not want to prove ourselves to others or compete for love.
This passage is for wanderers, dreamers, and lovers who dare to ask of life everything which is good and beautiful.”
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Then, all of a sudden, I got this idea.
“Look,” I said. “Here’s my idea. How would you like to get the hell out of here? Here’s my idea. I know this guy down in Greenwich Village that we can borrow his car for a couple weeks. He used to go to the same school I did and he still owes me ten bucks. What we could do is, tomorrow morning we could drive up to Massachusetts and Vermont, and all around there, see. It’s beautiful as hell up there. It really is.” I was getting excited as hell, the more I thought about it, and I sort of reached over and took old Sally’s goddam hand. What a goddamfool I was. “No kidding,” I said. “I have about a hundred and eighty bucks in the bank. I can take it out when it opens in the morning, and then I could go down and get this guy’s car. No kidding. We’ll stay in these cabin camps and stuff like that till the dough runs out. Then, when the dough runs out, I could get a job somewhere and we could live somewhere with a brook and all and, later on, we could get married or something. I could chop all our own wood in the wintertime and all. Honest to God, we could have a terrific time! Wuddaya say? C’mon! Wuddaya say? Will you do it with me? Please!”J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye