Just feel down. No matter how many good things I do in a day. And other times I feel untouchable. Dangerously confident. Numb. All the while I am able to notice it. I can name it, describe it, call it what it is. And so I do. Does that make me emotional? Or the opposite? I’d say the opposite.
And why does my dad love Catcher in the Rye so much? It’s probably the only book he’s ever read. My uncle also loved catcher in the rye. Is it that here’s a guy, putting words to what would otherwise be expressed through violence? When a guy writes like a girl thinks, he’s celebrated for his sensitivity. When a guy writes like a guy thinks (in abstractions, violence, adventure), he is celebrated for his literary boldness. To be celebrated by men, which is to be celebrated by any dominant institution, a woman has to make like a man. See: Flannery O’Connor, or Kathryn Bigelow.