Ever tried, Ever failed.
No matter, try again, fail again, fail better.
I had so many dreams, of where I wanted to go, who I wanted to be and what I wanted to do.
You have your own story to tell.
Feeder companies, I wanted to start with classmates.
Movies I wanted to be in, directors I wanted to work with, stories I needed to tell.
I packed the life that I knew, with socks and toothbrush into my backpack.
And I slept on couch, after couch, after couch, after couch, at friend's apartment in New York Until I wore out the rent paying roommates' welcome.
I didn't want a day job. I was an actor. I was a writer. I had to get a day job.
I dusted pianos at a piano store on Whitelow Street for five months.
