Dear Shia Lebeouf,
June 28, 2014 § Leave a comment
Please don’t fucking die. Don’t overdose. Please don’t do something so crazy the cops fucking shoot you in the chest. Don’t get naked and start eating people. Please don’t kill yourself. I see you in the news and am genuinely worried you will be another tragedy, one I’ll actually mourn. Deeply. If I could give you whatever if it is you’re searching for, I would so fast. Perhaps your recent “Insanity” is stemmed from the unavoidable collapse of what you thought was the world, but wasn’t. Or, maybe you’ve been cloned, the real you they locked away but you’ve escaped, and now you know too much, and it’s making you nuts. Maybe you’ve been and feel abandoned. With knowledge comes crisis, sadness, and then eventually power if it doesn’t kill you first. Or, maybe you really are just hyped up on some drug-I really don’t see that, but whatever-just don’t let yourself get dead. I keep waiting for the news to break that you’re gone. For very bizarre reasons (because I don’t know you) just the thought of you being dead makes my heart hurt. The fucking critics are devils with no fucking empathy, put here to devour those like you. Don’t let them get you, please!
From my heart, I weep for you, with you
I think you’d benefit from going some place with continuously wonderful weather, where you can start a magical forest garden. Focus your energy into creating something beautiful, something honest, something inspiring. If the world can’t handle you, give yourself to something that can.