It’s the Way You Don’t Read Camus or Brett Easton Ellis

I just a found an awkward little birthday note from an old friend this morning. It was slipped in between the first pages of the accompanying present, a book I still haven’t read even until now. Awkward, yet sincere. Made me smile a bit.

Had I been too cruel to you, too many times? I hope not. But then, I would have to say it’s for your own good. Trust me.


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