Well, I better dash. I've got another party to get to. Loads of single people. Mainly poofs. Bye.
— Jack, I want you to draw me like one of your French girls. Wearing this.
— All right.
— Wearing only this... The last thing I need... is another picture of me looking like a porcelain doll. As a paying customer... I expect to get what I want.
Clark. A few weeks should have passed by the time you read this. If you followed the instructions, you'll be in Paris on one of those chairs that never sit quite level on the pavement. I hope it's still sunny. Across the bridge to your right you will see L'Artisan Parfumeur. You should try the scent called Papillons Extreme. I always did think it would smell great on you. There are a few things I wanted to say and couldn't, because you would have got all emotional and you wouldn't have let me finish. So, here it is. When you get back home, Michael Lawler will give you access to a bank account that contains enough to give you a new beginning. Don't start panicking. It's not enough for you to sit around for the rest of your life, but it should buy you your freedom. At least from that little town we both call home. Live boldly, Clark. Push yourself. Don't settle. Wear those stripy legs with pride. Knowing you still have possibilities is a luxury. Knowing I might have given them to you has eased something for me. So, this is it. You are scored on my heart, Clark. You were from the first day you walked in with your sweet smile and your ridiculous clothes. And your bad jokes and your complete inability to ever hide a single thing you felt. Don't think of me too often. I don't want you getting sad. Just live well. Just live. I'll be walking beside you every step of the way. Love, Will.
Explanation:
Will’s last letter.
Enjoy yourself out there.
In the ASYLUM.