Holden doesn't like the future. In fact, he spends much of Catcher trying not to grow up. He's stuck in a time when Allie, his younger brother, was still alive. When Jane was his neighbor, and he played checkers with her every afternoon. When he was happy. Holden hasn't been happy for a long time.
Most people fear the future. The past has already happened. A person can have regrets about the past, not fears. The present is just the past or the future waiting to happen. Take your pick. If you're hopelessly nostalgic, it's the past. If you're chronically worried, it's the future. Sometimes, I'm the former. Most of the time I'm the latter.
Fear of the future is unfounded. To paraphrase Holden, how do you know what's going to happen until it happens? It's kind of silly to worry about the future. I'm worrying about things that haven't occurred. That may occur. That's like not crossing a street because a car may run a stoplight and kill me. The future isn't happy or sad, positive or negative. It's a vacuum, until it becomes the present.
Most worries come from the future. There's no reason to worry about the past, unless you committed a murder that hasn't been solved. There's no reason to worry about the present, unless you're in line to ride a roller coaster or have a rectal exam. The future is about worry. For worry. It's the realm of undiagnosed illnesses and un-lost jobs and un-filed-for bankruptcies. It's where all the bad things are going to happen.
I'm not going to dwell on the future this evening. I'm too tired for that. I'll leave the future for tomorrow. As Annie says, tomorrow's only a day away.
Saint Marty just hopes that day doesn't involve emergency gall bladder surgery.
|She's probably a methadone addict now|