A letter from Mar 03, 2023

Hey, future me. Long time no see. Who are you? Have you picked a name that you like yet? It’s Victor for now. I hope that when you read this, you’ve got **** more figured out than I do. It’s Friday. I got home from school like an hour ago. We designed book covers in Photoshop today. I named my fictional book ”Jag vet inte”. I’m starting to get the hang of it I think. Now I’m just laying in bed, as always. I wish you could just tell me what to do for it all to work out. I still believe that I’ll figure it out eventually. If you’re reading this and you’re still struggling just as much: ****. I’m working so hard. You know we always have. But somehow it doesn’t feel like I’m making any progress. I’m in a hurry to figure **** out, ’cus I’m afraid of missing out. I’m supposed to live for another 50 years, probably, but it allready feels like I’m running out of time and options. I don’t know what I want. Like, at all. People say that you’re not supposed to have everything figured out at 19 but I need a goal to work thorwards. Something that I can fight for and trust in. I don’t trust anything rn. I’m not even sure If I want to make art anymore. It’s still fun sometimes but I’m directionless. How am I supposed to make art when nothing feels right. I’m so afraid. Of so many things. I want to change but I don’t know how to do it. I don’t know which direction I’m supposed to go in. Should I freak out, turn my life upside down and hope for the best? Or should I just take it slow and steady, and plan carefully. Right now I’m trying to keep up. I know when you’re reading this you’d probably want to tell me to take it easy and to relax. That everything will work out. At least I hope so. But you know how it worked out. I don’t. I’m so confused and I’m so stressed out. And nothing feels right. I have so much on my plate. And I’m so afraid of failing. I don’t even know who I am. How am I supposed to picture you? Do you know who you are? Have you had your first boyfriend yet? Where do you live? What do you do for a living? You don’t feel real. How is Tess doing, she’s gotten recognized for her talents right? She better have. And our family. Is it still just as complicated? If I could just have a glimpse of you, of your world, maybe I would know what to do. Well, this was existential. I hope you’re laughing and not cringing. I love you, I think. I hope. Write me back. Maybe I’ll know. The universe works in strange ways. Sincerly yours, I/me/us/”Victor” (You know who.)