Finding Pushkin

"You know what I'd like to be? You know what I'd like to be? I mean if I had my goddam choice? You know that song 'If a body catch a body comin' through the rye'? I keep picturing all these little kids playing some game in this big field of rye and all. Thousands of little kids, and nobody's around—nobody big, I mean—except me. And I'm standing on the edge of some crazy cliff. What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff—I mean if they're running and they don't look where they're going I have to come out from somewhere and catch them. That's all I'd do all day. I'd just be the catcher in the rye and all. I know it's crazy, but that's the only thing I'd really like to be. I know it's crazy."

—J. D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye

It's crazy, but even I feel the same way. I don't care if all I've done was to destroy myself completely, jumping off cliffs and all, but if I can help it someday I'd like to save all of them young and innocent and impressionable ones from falling. I don't care if it's not a proper job; at least it's a sort of work to do. I don't care if it'll kill me for trying, but I'd rather be the one to die a thousand times than watch a thousand die.

God I'm so removed from reality I don't know the way back to Earth anymore.