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Thursday August 24th 2006, 8:50 pm
Filed under: All Letters,Love Letters

M,

Even though youíve explicitly told me you ďdonít give a fuckĒ about how Iím feeling, Iíd like to inform you that Iím feeling well, and that I donít have any anger or hate towards you. Though this emotional state will change, as it always does, for the moment, Iím actually happy. Iím downtown sitting on the corner of Howard and Main in the industrial district. The sun is shining brilliantly and the wind is a cozy breeze. The towering buildings surrounding me are mere obstacles in the way of beautiful puffy clouds. Theyíre the type of clouds that one would love to dive into, like a down-filled comforter, or a heated swimming pool. Iím still waiting for your phone call to give me instructions for signing over the pink slip to our car, but you can take your time with that. Youíre probably at work right now, anticipating the moment they let you go, so that you can take your post-work-Saturday nap. I wonder if your fear of me has inconvenienced your sleep schedule? I know how much you enjoy your naps, so I hope I havenít disturbed your daily routines entirely. I often wondered whether you use sleep as escapism. I remember you telling me you pictured death as a beautiful eternal nap. I appreciate this optimistic approach to the unknown territories of the post-mortem state. Itís a brave outlook on one of the most terrifying aspects of life on this planet. I always wondered if I would accept God on my deathbed. I usually come to the conclusion that I would keep my agnostic faith, and liberate my consciousness by diving into the natural state of the universe. Humanity has a strange narcissistic perspective on life and death. Humans believe in their own importance so concretely that they make living forever (or as long as they can) the ultimate goal in life. Although technology serves in continuing the dominance of the human race, it is humans, however, that eventually rely on, in fact serve, technology. It is a master/slave relationship. Just think of all the seniors who canít survive without their medication. Think of all the sick individuals who rely on technology to propagate their lives. Technology propagates itself. For instance, the AIDS virus, or the newly mutated Super AIDS virus, requires technological advancements, or rather, technological mutations to battle the disease. Really, there are no human individuals anymore, but just potential mutants and biological mutations. God (or whatever it is we label an Absolute) itself is a mutation of human thought and understanding. Even something like history, once thought to be objective, has now mutated into a fluid-conditioned construct of the human mind. All this philosophizing about life, death, technology and an absolute makes me tired. Itíd be nice to take a nap, maybe escape these thoughts for a bit. Anyway, this is what I was thinking about in this happy state Iím in. I know you could care less, but I thought Iíd let you know.

ĖCRD.

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