“To whom it may concern…”

I remember starting a letter like that way back in 2014. Barely two years into my so-called “career” and I was already plotting my exit. Nothing ever came of that letter though, and I ended up filing it away for another day when it felt more appropriate. Well, almost seven years and nearly 700 scenes later, I think that day is finally upon us. I’ve always felt that we as performers leave behind a small piece of ourselves on every set, and I think that over the years I may have given too much, losing a bit of my identity along the way. Now it’s time for me to reclaim what I’ve lost. I had a great run, I devoted the entirety of my twenties to the business, but I think I’m ready to move on, to find my truth and start living it. Consider this my formal letter of resignation.

I always knew that sooner or later all of this would have to come to an end. I mean, I was just renting time here anyway, barely keeping my head afloat as I scraped by month after month, year after year, hoping that everything would just magically fall into place and I'd become a somebody, my proverbial seat at the table reserved indefinitely. Now I can barely even get in the door, let alone get a seat. The dream has faded, passed me by while I was too busy jacking off and burning bridges. My time here is done, and it's only fitting that it would end the same way it began, with me packing everything I own into my car and driving cross-country. At least this time I'll have my cat by my side. The bottom line: my heart is no longer in this, and therefore, neither is my dick.

I am thankful I was able to enjoy this industry while I did. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity and I was incredibly fortunate to ride the roller coaster. This journey has come to an end; it is time for this chapter to close and for another to begin, onward and upward.

Alert the media, its official: Logan Pierce is done.