Hey Hollywood,
How's it going? I know you've been under some scrutiny lately. You're taking some heat for the violence in our society in the midst of the gun debate. Don't worry, most people understand the political implications of the argument. Everyone wants to feel like they are NOT sheep easily influenced, and people who disagree with them are. I'm sure things will blow over soon on that front. With as much money as you pull in I'm sure that debate will be less than a blip on you bank account's radar.
I'm not really writing to talk about the gun debate or your roll in it. I'd actually like to focus on how I'VE changed. Once upon a time I would be glued to the TV by now, magazines in hand, giddy and nervous about you're big awards show tonight. I would be making friendly bets with friends about who wins which award, and whose outfit is the best.
As it stands, I am sitting here after a long weekend. I'm looking forward to trying to finish a book I have been reading. I am catching up on funny stories with my kids. I am planning lunches for the week. I am living life and enjoying it. Aside from writing to this you this Dear John letter in this moment, you are pretty far from my mind.
I've had a progressive revelation over the past few years. Your key players this evening will be sporting fake breasts, fake nails, fake hair, and fake teeth. Reports on their failing marriages and failing families do not interest me. In fact, I rather feel sympathy for your poor life choices and the resulting misery you must feel.
At the ripe old age of thirty-(*insert coughing fit), I am neither entertained nor intrigued by what I see. I know this letter might sound cynical. Please don't take my direct approach negatively. I have no ill will towards you. They say the opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference. The fact of the matter is I don't hate you. I'm just not that into you.....
Have fun tonight,
Ms. Soapbox*
*Steps off soapbox
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