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Thursday, December 14, 2006

dear friend

Dear Friend,

I am writing to you to tell you that there's a party next week at 'The Big Brother's Joint' and we are invited. Why not go to a party, my friend. Do not worry about fitting in – we should be OK as long as we end each sentence with “we are all dead in the long run.”

And then lets tell them how beautiful they are so that in return they will then tell us how beautiful we are although we all know that it is not true in its entirety. Let us laugh when others laugh because whatever it is, it must be funny since people are laughing. And then let us pay attention to a subject if one thinks the subject is aesthetically pleasing. - even if we do not know what aesthetic means. Let us talk about literature, about that stupid haiku by Richard Brautigan and on how he became a hero for the Beatniks and how he killed himself in misery. Let us show them how much we adore Baudelaire and then recite his works - we have to make sure that we memorise them though.

Let us clap our hands when a drunk surgeon leaps off the table with his mask (mind you he’ll bring it along just to prove a point) and then calls it base jumping. Let us join them in this light hearted lucid lunacy - and all this my friend, while eating inedible posh-expensive food with french cheese in it, holding an empty beer bottle and pose.

We shall wear our knock-off BVLGARI watches, we shall enjoy sour music at the background with camera flashes everywhere, smiling that fake happy smile: 'one for the album' then sitting at the balcony, watch stray bitches getting wasted on rum with molasses. Then when the night is over we could write a poem and laugh at ourselves for behaving blasphemously trying to fit in, trying to resemble all of them at the party, slaves of urbanity and fail miserably.
But be merry my friend as we dont have to waste chink for its heresy and its ambience - some things are still costless in this world.
And so, I look forward to an evening at the party with you, when we will bitch about everything and everyone that passes us by, including ourselves when we go pass our minds.

Yours sincerely - Same fler you know.

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