Letter to future me

Diary page.

It’s weird, isn’t it? Talking to your past self as if it were another person, not you. I’m the 15-year-old you, soon 16. How many years have passed? Have you changed? Are you the person I want you to be? But don’t worry, it’s okay if you’re not. You just need more time, I get it. You surely have changed. At least a bit, I feel like you have. You’re older, yes, but I hope you’re better. And I don’t have to explain that. You know what I mean. After all, I’m you. But a younger version of you. Have you grown in height? You know, this version of you has an obsession with height. How’s your blog? Do you still write on it? I hope so.
It sure is weird talking to you like this, for you are me, and I am you. I am in charge of you and your changes are up to me. Has your past self done good? Did I make good choices? Ah, so weird.
I don’t really have anything else to say, so I guess that’s it. I feel like there’s no point in saying “Goodbye” because I am you, and right now I’m just talking to myself.

Psst, I know that sounds so serious that right now you’re probably feeling weird. So have a joke, to make things better:
What is blue and smells like red paint?
Blue paint.
Bad jokes, yep. Bet you still have them.

You from the past.



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