Dear Old Friend,

I know it has been long since we last spoke, but for that I beg your sympathy. As you may or may not know, my life has taken twists and turns in which no one can understand. My life has become my work; a passion that will never fill my true beliefs. I am writing to you because of the history we share together. The time we spent when we were younger is time I truly cherished. No one else can fill this space in my heart that is currently occupied by your being. We formed a bond, one that cannot be replaced easily, if at all. You see, like I said, my life has become my work. The problem is, the world isn’t ready for the work I produce. However, I can personally guarantee that one day it will be. In the future, people will appreciate what it is I do, unlike the society I live in today. With this information, I ask you to not invest in my work, but in society’s future. Work is not easily made. It takes time, patience, and most of all, skill. Qualities I possess, but qualities that are not observable by those who surround me. Mark my words, I will repay any and all investments made in the work I produce, but it is unfortunate that for now my work does not gain as much income as it is worth. It pains me to ask for money, especially from such a valued friend, but I fear this is my only choice. If you are unwilling, I understand, but as a friend, I hope all is well.

So long,
Wolfgang Mozart