A letter from April 17th, 2016 (your past self)

Dear FutureMe, It should be funny reading this now, this email should either make you so sad or so proud, for the sake of myself I hope for the latter. You are a fucking disaster, or you were? again, I hope for the latter.. You never finish anything, Sleet, Jo-Geek, the fucking gym. What the fuck were you doing with your life.. are you still doing it? You know how I imagine you to be? you are now either a young entrepreneur who finally learned how to spell that word without using autocorrect, someone who made something of himself, someone who deserves to live. someone who is competing in the game of life and making a new step everyday, a new step towards success. OR you are still giving yourself the same fucking excuses, lying to yourself and to those around you, having confidence and no discipline, having motivation but no will, having dreams but no reality. This time however, I hope for the former. You know, there is still a third option, an option that really makes me sad just thinking about it. The option that will destroy everything that makes you who you are, you gave up and joined the herd, either consciously or without knowing. Living life day by day thinking about what you did the day before. Like a sad old addict, where the drug is life itself, and not in a good way. Have you stopped lying to yourself and telling yourself that weed just makes you creative, that it's not harming you? or did you finally realize that you are a fucked up pothead? or maybe you moved on, either in a good way or moved on to different drugs. Trying so hardly to tame the monster that's tearing off at your skin trying to escape. Or perhaps you are reading this now with another person? someone special? laughing at how cheesy this sounds while either forgetting or ignoring the fact that you wrote it almost teary eyed, with nothing but disappointment in your heart. The question you should be asking yourself, is she pushing you forward or pulling you backward? Again, I hope it's the former. I can go on and on and on, your life is/was a huge mess. Do you remember the theory that's been bugging your mind? That stupid theory that made you depressed every time you thought about it, the theory that you can't prove that the person who wakes up the next day has the same consciousness as the one who laid his eyes. You can't even prove that you were the same person 3 seconds ago. He could be "dead" and you just attained the memory, carrying the legacy, a successor who'll disappear in a while as well. It might sound stupid now but it really made you think. Is it all worth it? That means that me, the one who's writing this might be "dead" and long gone, please make me proud.. PLEASE .. PLEASE don't be the fucking mess you were while writing this bunch of drunken bullshit. I'm FUCKING BEGGING YOU.. if you are still that mess after all that time, then that means you can't change , then that means there is no hope, it means you don't deserve to live. Go kill yourself and stop torturing yourself more. And I'm dead serious. There are winners and losers, and you won't be 20 forever. Time flies, do you really want to be a tame member of society, growing old were the only thing on your mind is how to afford the next bill, how to afford a new car in 7 years, how to afford to have a kid, how to afford to go in a vacation next year, how to afford to live. Slaving away, day by day by day patiently torturing yourself waiting for your impending demise. But who knows, a lot can happen in a year, you could have changed, you could have found peace with that reality, but think again, you were wiser when you were 17 than when you were 20 and you know it. You knew how to act, and you understood the human brain better than anyone, then you grew up and shed it all away, replaced it by laziness, replaced it by trying to "be yourself" and dissing anyone who doesn't accept you for who you are, and once you made that step there was no going back, your personality is polymorphic, but for some reason it can't go back once changed... but again.. I might be wrong, you are older and theoretically you should be wiser than me. Dear FutureMe, it can all be summed up in the next sentence: If you are still a failure I really genuinely hope you die sooner than later.