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Dear Brandon

Dear Brandon

Dear Brandon,

Hey. How the hell are you buddy? It's great to see you again. I see you're dancing well. From what I hear you're trying to learn to BBoy. I hope that is going well for you. Though it's only been one session, I'm sure you'll pick it up far too quickly for comfort and will struggle with your own self-doubts as you climb the ranks of the dance world.

School sounds like it's going well. You sound pretty confident in how you did in your exams though I know there's still room for improvement. A minor emotional speedbump can't bring you down. It's all bout you these days, remember that.

You're learning to play the bass?!?! You may soon elevate yourself to the status of sexiest man alive if you bring yourself to put on deodourant and cut your fucking hair and shave your scruff. Or at least wash that blasted mop. Meh, whatever makes you happy I guess. Man, I sound like your father sometimes.


Get good at the shit you want to do and stop doing things you don't like to.

Peace,
Brandon
Back in the Saddle, my sides ache as though I'm nude and it's covered in sand.

Back in the Saddle, my sides ache as though I'm nude and it's covered in sand.

Letter A.  This's gonna be hard.  And, not hard.

Letter A. This's gonna be hard. And, not hard.