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  • bhvwd
    Dec 2, 2003
      Eduard, many years ago I had a wonderful trist with a model. She
      fascinated me in many ways but philosophically she lived in the
      present, only. She had money but married a wild biker who was broke.
      She liked him. When he rode off to live with whores she took up with
      me. We were going to write a book which we would entitle Nineteen
      Motels. She died suddenly of a burst aortic aneurism. She had her
      Vogue cover, she had her biker, she had her doctor. She shot smack,
      smoker hash and drank good scotch neat. She never spoke of the
      future to me. She rejected delayed gratification and her bet paid
      off, in a way.
      Now I live on but often think of her and her philosophy of the
      present . I wonder if she had an unpublished diagnosis of her
      condition. Once when she noticed a bit of blubber around her midrif
      she said it made no difference and she would no longer work it off. A
      prior knowledge of impending doom would completely validate her
      way of life. If she had such knowledge she took it away with her in
      silence. If she didn`t she played her life to perfection on a hunch.
      She was always one up on life and those around her. I think her
      strong enough to end her own life should it have become unpleasant.
      The closest life to hers I can remember is that of James Dean. Are
      these very unique people epicurians? Sociopaths, criminals,
      existential saints? Bill
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