In exactly one day I will be flying off to L.A. with my guitar on my back. I've lost all sense of enthusiasm towards pitching my scripts to random companies, and as happy as I am to get back to L.A... moving for the hundredth time in the last decade is wearing me thin.
I am out of words tonight, but I have attempted to convince another that you were indeed taken from us by the hands of another. But it's hard to explain why I care. Why do I care?
Compassion? Maybe. Heart? Rightfully. Soul??
Your Best Pal.