searching for j.d. salinger

Hope is a funny business, which I don’t necessarily understand, but I wish I did. I think the worst thing that comes along with hope is the pining for something that is unachievable; the fact that something so impossible can still be achieved by some ridiculous sliver of hope. I have faith that God will take care of me, and provide for me the things I need in order to live a life of glory for him, but it’s tough accepting the fact that the things I want, may not be what God wants for me.

I hate having common interests with girls; sort of. Common interests only lead to false hopes, which only lead to disappointment. Especially in March, which could undoubtedly be the worst time for a boy to get a crush on a girl. Nothing good EVER comes out of a spring crush. NOTHING. It’s more frustrating than anything else I think I’ve ever experienced. The thing that really gets me is the fact that because we have this hope, I can’t help but think that maybe there is a chance that something, might, happen, which in all reality is totally unrealistic. Figure that one out.

Maybe I’ll pull a Salinger: write a breathtakingly exquisite, real, somewhat autobiographical novel, then become a total recluse. Here’s what really gets me about Salinger: think about what he’s written in the past fifty some years since he’s been a recluse. I’m almost positive that those words are easily the greatest stories that have never been read. All he had to do with his life was sleep in, write, cook himself some breakfast (something organic, no doubt), write, head out for a walk, write, make a fire, write, sit back and think about all the frustrating things in life that he left behind, and write about them. Of course, there are the things that every human being, no matter how cold, calloused or corrupt, would miss: the first time you saw her, the smooth feeling of her arm against yours, the times when she made you laugh harder than you ever thought someone could, or all of her idiosyncrasies that would make you smile. I don’t know if Salinger was ever married, or whether it was a he or a she that he pined for, but I can’t accept the fact that wherever he is, he’s not dreaming of that someone. Maybe hope isn’t so bad, maybe I really need to learn how to live in the present; maybe I need to learn how to accept what’s in front of me, and pray that whatever God has in store for me, it’s going to bless me, and help me grow closer to him. Because really, that is what I really want in life. My selfish, lustful desires are far less important the achieving what I really want to: a real relationship with the creator of the universe.