fiction is the truth inside the lie

I think at some point, every girl who's watched "Breakfast at Tiffany's" falls in love with Holly Golightly because she glamorizes the naive, vulnerable, and wandering soul that's inside all of us. Or maybe just some of us. And while the movie may end like a fairy tale, Truman Capote's ending is much more fitting both for her character and surprisingly for me, the champion endorser of all things peachy-keen. In the book she basically continues to wander aimlessly, attempting to achieve an empty happiness and sense of belonging she (presumably) never gets. She mostly fails and gets hurt, and other times becomes frightened and sabotages herself, running until she eventually disappears out of the scope of the narrator's world and off pages of the book. It's much more poetic, isn't it? Some tragic endings are just more satisfying. And since the majority of us don't have that Hollywood ending, Capote's Holly Golightly is pitiful but also perfect in a strange sense.

For some odd reason, the story of her wild and unfulfilled life isn't so much tragic as it is comforting for me when I read it. Just as comforting as any happily-ever-afters. Is this the beginnings of my transformation into a realist? I surely hope not!

So why am I thinking about this when I have two management finals tomorrow?? hmmm... good question. let me think about that one.