Endings
by Holden Caulfield
If there's one thing I can't stand, it's endings. Probably it's because half the time I end up some place in the middle of goddamn nowhere I didn't even know I was heading to when I started. My teachers are always telling me that's what my problem is—I "get lost along the way," and all that. But how the hell do they know where I'm headed? What a bunch of phonies, thinking they know me better than I do. Maybe I want to get myself lost—that sure beats going straight to wherever it is they want me to go. They think they know everything. That kills me, really it does.
You know, there are lots of times when I don't know how to say out loud what I'm always saying in my head. Exactly two-thirds of those times are from lousy endings. I never know what to say about endings. I must've been through at least 7,000 endings in my life and I've still got nothing to say about them, I'm telling you. Who even wants to think about them, anyway?
I guess I can say one thing about endings. They keep sneaking up on me, but they always happen. It's like when you squeeze a tube of toothpaste one night and all of a sudden nothing comes out. I mean, you knew it had to run out sometime, you just didn't expect it to be now. Everything's got to end eventually, is what I mean. That's what I hate about endings—who wants an empty tube of toothpaste, for Christ's sake?
All I know is, wherever I end up, it's not going to be where someone tells me to go, that's for sure. Only I know where I've been, and no one can tell me where I'm going, not even if I don't have a clue either.
If there's one thing I can't stand, it's endings. Probably it's because half the time I end up some place in the middle of goddamn nowhere I didn't even know I was heading to when I started. My teachers are always telling me that's what my problem is—I "get lost along the way," and all that. But how the hell do they know where I'm headed? What a bunch of phonies, thinking they know me better than I do. Maybe I want to get myself lost—that sure beats going straight to wherever it is they want me to go. They think they know everything. That kills me, really it does.
You know, there are lots of times when I don't know how to say out loud what I'm always saying in my head. Exactly two-thirds of those times are from lousy endings. I never know what to say about endings. I must've been through at least 7,000 endings in my life and I've still got nothing to say about them, I'm telling you. Who even wants to think about them, anyway?
I guess I can say one thing about endings. They keep sneaking up on me, but they always happen. It's like when you squeeze a tube of toothpaste one night and all of a sudden nothing comes out. I mean, you knew it had to run out sometime, you just didn't expect it to be now. Everything's got to end eventually, is what I mean. That's what I hate about endings—who wants an empty tube of toothpaste, for Christ's sake?
All I know is, wherever I end up, it's not going to be where someone tells me to go, that's for sure. Only I know where I've been, and no one can tell me where I'm going, not even if I don't have a clue either.