wrote something that called a group of my friends "elitist."

I have no apologies for knowing, respecting, and loving my friends.

It reminded me of seeing a photograph, years ago.
It was a picture of Burroughs and Ginsburg and Kerouac and a bunch of other bad-ass mental machines in some sort of casual beat-party setting...And I just thought,
they're just hanging out and chilling...
these artistic superheroes...
hanging out together laughing
and discussing work
and challenging each other
and loving each other
and some of them sleeping with each other.
All these young giants.

And I remember just being fixated on this photograph. What a memory that would be for any one of them -- to remember back when they were just immersed is so much creative energy.

I don't think they were being elitist. I just wish I was there.

October 9, nineteen98