Goodbye and good luck

People may ask why. I was a traveler and an explorer. I went broke going to film school and trying to seek after dreams. Maybe I had no talent. Or at least not the kind that succeeds. I had music in me. Poetry, literature, movies, art. I was a professor but couldn’t stay where I was. No goddamn money. No success. A god who watches us fail. Never a personal word of which way to go. Got married. Finally. Couldn’t stay put. Too much wanderlust. Lost my kids, lost my relationship, played like a god dicked idiot. Lost my marriage, career, faith, hope. Good food and interesting places to see are gone.

So read this at my funeral. Don’t dream too big unless you are after money. Then go for it. God will help you be president even if you are crass and immoral. Dream but not too large. Unless you are rich. Fuck the rest of it.

Good luck everyone.

One thing I can say is I had the best friends and family in the world. I’m sorry I let you down. I’m sorry I didn’t know how to not be selfish.

God I’m sorry I couldn’t translate whatever you were saying into practice.

Shame on you for watching and doing nothing. For not speaking and for not directing me: Farewell, thanks God for dying for me but refusing to help me.

Shame on me for being about art and music and movies and stuff over people. I’m sorry. I’m not staying here for this poverty, loneliness and lack.

See you on the other side.