a message to my future self
at the request of a friend whom i doubt you're still talking to right now, i'm leaving this here.
i have very little hope you will remember that you wrote this 10 years ago because your history of concussions would've probably degenerated your brain function to the point where you can barely remember anything from the past year. just so you know, as your past self writes this now, i can barely remember anything from the past decade.
don't forget that your checking account has dormancy penalties. you wouldn't want to waste a portion of your savings because you had thought you'd be needing it to pay for living expenses with your significant other. you're probably a better adult than i am right now, but an immature one that has enough cognitive capacity to be functional still ends up being better.
i bet it's worse than it is right now. most things, really. while you probably have swankier things, you probably have a higher salary, you probably are wiser - but you're also probably significantly more out of touch, you probably have less family and friends still talking to you, you probably live less personally meaningful days. i don't feel bad for you. i'm sympathetic, yes. and being the past version of you, i'm sure you know i've prepared for your shitty life right now.
she probably is or isn't your daughter. but you at least once fell deeply in love with the mother. that much we can't take away from history. right now i still wish her the dreariness of purgatory. but not hell though, i figured she thrives against adversity. maybe you've figured out how to integrate this chapter in your life moving forward. or if you've managed to erase it all entirely. whatever floats your boat. you do you, future me. but however it turns out, know that i'm putting all responsibility on you, i'm sure as shit not doing anything about it right now. it's your problem. i'm still desperately distracting myself from wanting to die all the time.
mother desperately wants a grand kid. she's probably dead by now. but i hope you managed to at least give her that as a dying wish. i hope you didn't get someone pregnant out of wedlock. cut that out. don't be a dolt. remember the wonders of facials. better yet, here's an idea: why not reserve sex after marriage?
if ever you somehow realize you wanted to fuck dudes, then tough shit, you won't be giving mother a grand kid with the person you love. i hope your brain hasn't degraded enough to the point where you've deluded yourself into thinking that an adopted kid is still your mom's grandchild. fuck no. there's none of her genetic material in that human being. phone it in on other things, but not with the sanctity of human life and the advancement of the species.
and lastly, you have all your passwords and pin numbers written on a piece of paper in between one of the books in your office. remember, remember.
i have very little hope you will remember that you wrote this 10 years ago because your history of concussions would've probably degenerated your brain function to the point where you can barely remember anything from the past year. just so you know, as your past self writes this now, i can barely remember anything from the past decade.
don't forget that your checking account has dormancy penalties. you wouldn't want to waste a portion of your savings because you had thought you'd be needing it to pay for living expenses with your significant other. you're probably a better adult than i am right now, but an immature one that has enough cognitive capacity to be functional still ends up being better.
i bet it's worse than it is right now. most things, really. while you probably have swankier things, you probably have a higher salary, you probably are wiser - but you're also probably significantly more out of touch, you probably have less family and friends still talking to you, you probably live less personally meaningful days. i don't feel bad for you. i'm sympathetic, yes. and being the past version of you, i'm sure you know i've prepared for your shitty life right now.
she probably is or isn't your daughter. but you at least once fell deeply in love with the mother. that much we can't take away from history. right now i still wish her the dreariness of purgatory. but not hell though, i figured she thrives against adversity. maybe you've figured out how to integrate this chapter in your life moving forward. or if you've managed to erase it all entirely. whatever floats your boat. you do you, future me. but however it turns out, know that i'm putting all responsibility on you, i'm sure as shit not doing anything about it right now. it's your problem. i'm still desperately distracting myself from wanting to die all the time.
mother desperately wants a grand kid. she's probably dead by now. but i hope you managed to at least give her that as a dying wish. i hope you didn't get someone pregnant out of wedlock. cut that out. don't be a dolt. remember the wonders of facials. better yet, here's an idea: why not reserve sex after marriage?
if ever you somehow realize you wanted to fuck dudes, then tough shit, you won't be giving mother a grand kid with the person you love. i hope your brain hasn't degraded enough to the point where you've deluded yourself into thinking that an adopted kid is still your mom's grandchild. fuck no. there's none of her genetic material in that human being. phone it in on other things, but not with the sanctity of human life and the advancement of the species.
and lastly, you have all your passwords and pin numbers written on a piece of paper in between one of the books in your office. remember, remember.
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