A letter from May 24th, 2021

Dear Future Me, I'm writing this le- you know what, I'm just gonna cut the sh** and get to the f***ing point. You're screwed, or probably dead. And I couldn't care less about my sad, pathetic life five years from now. So here are some things you're gonna do. One, get out of your emo phase you bi***. Two, stop being afraid of spiders you p****. Three, break up with your girlfriend because you ain't no simp. Your good at drawing, but that doesn't mean sh**. You don't have any real friends. No one actually likes you. You're pathetic, you're worthless, you're nothing. Deal with it. From, You're twelve-year-old self, Joel Gomez