A letter from Jan 02, 2023

Dear FutureMe, How are you doing mate? Right now I’m in bed, on cloud3, out of breath because I laboured up the stairs. I’m like this all the time nowadays and the stress of it makes my hair fall out. But, worst of all, worst than the weight or the hair or even the ***, it’s that you ain’t fulfilling anything. What are you doing? I’ll be reading this in 3 years smiling but I know it’s 100% under that stupid fake smile you thinking the same thing. Bye