I wrote a musical. It's called Push Me, Pull Me. It has twelve songs. I wrote every word and every note.
It's done. Finished. Ready.
What it's not ready for is easy answers.
The musical asks one question: Is Jimmy Chilla a deceiver, or is he perfecting himself? I don't answer it. I can't. I wrote the whole thing, and I still don't know. That's the point.
The audience decides. Every...
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