A letter from Nov 20th, 2021

Dear FutureMe, Thirty years old, wow. Hopefully you don't have any kids by now, and if you do, and you're miserable, I told you so. But if you're happy, then I was wrong. Having an extension of yourself to take care of is a big deal, and if you're doing good enough, good for you, won't wanna be you. If you're still childless, then you probably have a **** ton of money, what do you spend it on or do you sit on it like a dragon? Is Dad still alive? Is Mom still a **** up and alive? Have you forgiven her? Have you forgiven yourself? What do you do now? I'm sitting in our living room in the house with the dragon fruit trees and the two money trees in front by the airport, remember that? Do you still live there or you moved to a fancier place, you pompous *******. I hope living style creep has not gotten to you yet. You'd better kept your promise with me that you won't become an insufferable *****. If you don't have friends anymore, check yourself. Have you learned how to love yet? OR care for anyone yet? Are you still insecure? I guess you would still be if today I don't do anything to fix that, ****, you might be worse. Hopefully you're not an addict anymore. Believe it or not, you didn't die from that elevator incident, you lived to tell the story and this is not hell, this is your reality. You didn't die from that cancer, hopefully, and you have another chance to redeem yourself. Just get a check up every year if you want to see another email from me. Have you gathered up your courage and face the truth yet? if not, you're a ***** and you need to man up.