Dear Act II,
You suck. Possibly you suck worse than the dentist. Okay, that's not true, even you're not that bad. But the fact remains--you are the bane of my very existence.
I have a first act. I have a third act. What do you mean, telling me I need to have something linking the two together where the plot actually unfolds? Ludicrous.
And even when I have you mapped out in my head, you're still a tricky little fucker. Playing mind games with me as to where my scenes should actually go, confusing me as to how I'm going to fit everything in a manner that is cohesive and not total shit.
Second act, you're the goddamn devil.
But please be nice to me and cooperate so that I can some day hope to not live in a shoebox outside a Starbucks with a sign that says 'will write for coffee. or a cracker.'
Love always and never,
Sushi
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