My boyfriend is very involved in the Boys and Girls club of Venice. I go to all their fundraisers and events and they're always inspiring to be part of. Oscar had joined the club when he was six, and at twenty-three was fully committed to working there full-time with the next generation of kids. He was one of those good people who seem like they were made out of liquid sunshine. He was the music director, and everyone loved him. And he was shot on the street by strangers for no apparent reason, except that he was standing there when they felt like picking a fight.
Too fucked up to bare.