A letter from April 2nd, 2021

3/4/21 set to send in five years time 3/4/21 2026 4:48 am Dear FutureMe, I remember the first letter I wrote, I thought it was so magnificent. To be honest, I didn't try and I knew deep down I could do better but I didn't want to show my true self. How am I supposed to be myself? Even if All these Chains would loosen and my shackles would be free I don't know how to show my innermost true self. Perhaps it's because I know that my essence isn't what I want it to be, or maybe I already am the core of my personality but I don't want to admit it because it's nothing. Counterintuitively I know that I am not nothing, but maybe I don't. Maybe I do know I am nothing but don't know that I realized this. For some reason, I'm stricken with a feeling deep within, maybe one that brings me one a step closer to relieving the truth of this person behind this letter. I can never know my reality, no matter what I do. I can only know the appearance of the reality no matter how hard I try. It's an interesting concept I resonate deeply with. A philosophy of (oh here it comes... (this is gonna sound dumb) Moonshawdo Elves. Robert Herrick says as much, "much gather ye rosebuds while ye may old time is still a flying and the same flower that smiles today tomorrow will be dying no I cannot let myself forget the rosebuds." I have been thinking about time this whole period of my thoughts. So many thoughts flying through my brain I don't feel as if I can record them all but I refuse not to try my best. So many magical golden moments made by me passed and faded away because of my inability to act. Content with leaving them perfectly laid onto the soils of my mind washed away by the wind. This I am content with leaving them with I wonder what I would Learn from them by pondering upon them now. Nothing Gold Can Stay. In fact, I imagined this letter to venture a different path of moments imagined by my mind but too much is happening there and I can't record it all. I'm struggling to remember the things I wanted to say and trying to hold onto the things I have right now. Perhaps I should forget about the past, not let each realization be dictated by the former. Not try to make a pond into an ocean and rather let the ground be covered with ponds which someday might become those vast rich oceans I have always dreamed of. But I can't. I strive for perfection. But it conflicts with what I want. I want raw authentic material. The pinnacle of the moment where all your realizations fade away and your faced with the truth. Maybe that's God? Who knows. I feel blasphemies saying that but who will ever know that I did? The reason this conflicts with perfection is because perfection is never achieved raw. Perfection needs editing, thinking, changing, and covering. Rawness is artful, purposeful, but not perfect. Saying things raw may seem unartful, not sophisticated, childish. It's hard to realize what you mean and appreciate your words without perfection. Even now when I'm writing I'm stripping away the beautifully authentic, thought-flowing passage by stopping, thinking, changing. Even now with my attempts to perfectionize, it's far from anything close to perfection. The only way to make ur rawness perfect is to become perfect yourself. The only way to make ur rawness flow cohesively without the need to change is to realize exactly what you want to say without the need to stop, think, rephrase because that's when you realize you urself are only grasping at straws urself to realize what ur trying to say even though somehow you know deep down exactly the thought you are trying to formulate but you can't word it. Perhaps it's the fault of the langue or the direction humanity took towards communication. In the end, I wouldn't be surprised if all of these efforts thoughts to try to convey my feelings in a way that balances perfection and authenticity are a futile effort for either the reader doesn't understand which is my fault for not reaching the perfection I hoped for or that All of these epiphanies are just simple stepping stones towards a path leading nowhere but infinity or just barriers stopping me from reaching my goal. And this segment of the passage isn't some unhealthy drive for perfection or the need to be perfect all the time but rather instead how I struggle with makes my thoughts understandable and keeping them true to my authentic ideas. I hope I understand what I mean by this five years later. How much I know will have changed. This past year has been virtually the same but I think that's for another time. If I want my thought to be understood I could perhaps dumb them down or rather sacrifices some of the messages to achieve a more perfect form of communication but I would be sacrificing the trueness and intentionalness of the message. Honestly, all I strive for is an artful, deep, poetic, philosophical, intellectual, beautiful, cohesive, sophisticated way of writing so this isn't really about dumbing it down but about how I can't raise it to that level so I have to sacrifice some of the purposefulness of the thoughts to make the words understandable because the current level I am at doesn't fit. I hope you understand what I meant by perfection. Think of 5w4. I want that perfectness. If you look at great quotes and poems that all have their meaning intact but the communication is excellent. I think perhaps that's why sometimes the clarity of their message is hidden behind the text. I think that's a fair trade-off as clarity, communication, quality, and conectiveness to the message aren't all achievable at 100%. Most people have to sacrifice something. It's 4:39 am currently and I'm quite tired but I have so much more to say. I think am slowly learning when indulging my brain in the wonders of this universe are going too far. What can I say? I'm an entertainment junkie. Wheater it's watching youtube, reading fanfiction, watching shows, thinking, reading, It's all so pleasing. Entertainment is another form of laziness to some extent and I am soooo lazy. A whole another series of stepping stones leading to another unimportant journey of thoughts but satisfying nonetheless. I'm quite the night owl but I'm just as well a morning bird as well but I often end up sleeping through it. Today won't be any different. I wanted to go deeper into time and thoughts and so much more. I usually stay up past 5 but I think it's time to finally satisfy my fatigue for once and not my unquenchable mind. See the perfection is slipping away. I'm writing quite slow now as I'm trying not to think about things and physically forcing my hands to go slower so I forget. It's about 4:48 am and I utter my final farewell to my nineteen-year self.