(untitled)

He sighed. He wasn't very good at this.

The Holden Caulfields of different books he had read had sat in places the authors had picked wisely; vantage points from which their brooding protagonists could take a moment from their usual self-indulgences, and choose to indulge themselves in a different way. They would sit in places where they could watch people come and go, or see them eat, or observe quietly their facial expressions as they reacted to what they were told by their companions, while constantly forming judgements and opinions about them, giving them back-stories both imaginative and quirky, or simply calling upon the Holmes’ in them to deduce what little they could from the apparel and mannerisms of the objects of their scrutiny. Then they’d form conclusions. Opinions. All this seemed smart. The Holdens always seemed smart, if only to their readers and to their own sorry selves.

He wished he was smart. He didn't feel very smart. He wished the spot he'd chosen for his own observation hadn't been so...disappointing.

But he reconsidered.

The Holdens of literature probably did find the perfect perches and the perfect passers-by. In all probability however, the FANS of the Holdens were in the same position he was: constantly let down by the mediocrity of the world that frequented the coffee shops and bus stops they had chosen, and by their own inability to come up with anything too fascinatingly far-fetched. But recognition and acceptance of this fact wasn't a thought a lot of these fans got to. And really, wasn’t that all it took to be an intellectual? Books are just words. It’s how far your thought takes you that defines your intellect. Well. He was far now.

There. He felt smart.

He smiled at how easy it had been.

He dropped his gaze and his guard. He stood up, went back to his room and gave his grandmother a long overdue phonecall.

There is never a dearth of smart-asses in the world. Don't take yourself too seriously. Act stupid once in a while. Open your eyes as wide as you can, and keep them that way. Try and move your ears. Hold your slippers over your head and get Jumper to chase you up the road from C-mess. You're in a good place. Take [that BITS word].