Sam,
There doesn't seem to be enough time for anything.
I have been painting a lot lately, and drawing, a lot. I'm getting tired.
There are no excuses. Seeing photos of you with short hair helped me realize how sad I am when I don't see you. Why don't people hug their friends as much as they get older? What's up with that?
Yesterday I drove on the wrong side of the street for a good mile and only realized my blunder when a speeding car came at me going 50. I need some sleep.
It's nice to be loved, or liked, or what? It's nice to be able to string pretty sentences together into art, but I only have so much creativity inside myself and at the moment I feel drained.
I don't want you to leave. Sorry.
Love,
Sam
p.s. goodnight.
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