I find imperfections immensely beautiful. I find people with flaws terribly intriguing and gorgeous. I am unremorsefully grey and involuntarily look for tints of greyness in others. That’s how I decide if I like them or not. The greyer they are and the more they flaunt it…the more I like them.
The greyest person I have ever encountered would be Holden Caulfield. *spaces out into Holden Land*
There…there’s the man I’d love to be with. He is the protagonist of the most controversial classic ‘The Catcher in the Rye’ by J.D Salinger. G*d I love him. Don’t look at me all strange just because I’m in love with a fictional character. I love how screwed up he is. I share his angst, his pang at the atrociousness of the human race. I love how extreme he is. I adore how he contradicts himself, over and over again. I love how hurt his soul is and how fast he wants to run away and longs to be lost. I love his mind and how he doesn’t really give a goddamn fack! There’s probably only one thing that I hate about him. His yellowness. He can’t freaking hit another guy. That’s lame. I hate that in a guy. Also he’s a freaking chimney but I can overlook that. Holden is so flawed that it’s perfect.
How can you not love him when he talks about ‘ what he wants to be’…when he talks about being the catcher of lil’ children in the rye.I love how he loves people he loves and how he can hate them in a fraction of a second. I guess I love him so much, because I’m a lot like him in the way he thinks
If I’d ever fall in love and if I’d ever marry, my man would be like Holden. Just like him except he’d protect me and fight for me if the need arises unlike ‘yellow’ Holden. I hate him only for that.
Someone once told me, that I am incapable of handling a Holden. I say, hell maybe I am…but I’m hell capable of loving one.