Dear Understanders,
First, thank you for your outpour of support during this, the bleakest period in our lives. Never did we think we’d find ourselves ensnared in a web of harsh letters from lawyers, threats from DISHONEST television executives, and accusations from some hotshot filmmaker. If it weren’t for our understanders, I can’t imagine finding any hope.
That said, even with all of your kind words — even with the inspiration of my muse Dom — I have no will to answer your many letters. I’m so sorry. The guilt I feel in disappointing you only compounds all of this misery.
Normally I can find inspiration in anything life hurls my way, be it joyous, heinous, or worst of all, banal. But not this time. I’m afraid any advice I might give at this point would only lead others down a very… I don’t know…. a very bad path. See what I mean! The best modifier I could come up with in that sentence was “bad”. This is what I’ve become.
I’m so sorry. I need solitude. I will be back, when the will to continue my journey in life — as an artist — returns. Until then, I suggest that if you really really need a muse, try Dom. I’m sure he won’t mind.
I’m so sorry.
Bella