It's End of Freshmen Year As We Know It.

To FutureMe on the eve of graduating froIt's the End of Freshman Year am Stanford University, or on the eve of something completely different, It's a little hard starting this letter, knowing that three years from now I'm going to be reading it and seeing it as quiant or niave. My words, which I say in earnest now, will cause me to cringe and the seriousness of my past self. I will undoubtedly chuckle at how I once articulated my thoughts and thought about my life. I will find gramatical errors and spelling mistakes and other slippages that only time and perspective reveal. So future self, have sympathy, look kindly, you were once a past-self to another's future. So here's how it is with me now... It's 6:47 on Wednesday, June 14. I leave for Massachusetts at 4:00 am. I'm entirely packed. I only have to vacuum and clean a little bit more. So I'm here in Alondra 315 having just finished by last cup of FloMo frozen yogurt thinking about what the future will bring... or what I will bring to the future. Susie left about an hour ago. She was tearing up a little bit as she got in her cab. In the past few weeks there's been moments when I found myself looking forward to saying goodbye. In this relationship, I sometimes feel stifled and a little constrained. Sometimes I think we have different priorities, different tastes even. I've even thought that I couldn't marry Susie. But I love her. I love her. I worry that I don't let her know enough. I care about her. I was looking at pictures on the Facebook and found one of her. It caught me off guard I felt a little tinge of something. I look forward to her visit in July. I worry about the limitations of phone conversations. I look forward to the way things might be next year, and I want us to come back to campus with the same amount of affection we feel now. Mostly, I feel that being in a relationship is complicated there are so many aspects of my own personality that I have to get over and understand. But, in the rare, serene moments in my mind I find myself knowing, unquestionably, that I love her without complication. In terms of the Future (note the capital F), I know few things with certainty: -I want to help better the world however I can. Even if that process is a battle against unconquerable forces. -I want to be creative in the way I think and in the way I act. I want to create. I want art in my life. -I want to maintain my relationships. I want to maintain connections with the people who have passed through my existence. There's probably other things. I'm in a sedated, kind of serious mood right now, it's gray outside and I'm a little tired. So this is all kind of serious. If I was feeling a little bit more bouncy, I might make quirky predictions that you could enjoy in their accuracy or incorrectness. I guess I just worry that you will be more or less the same as I am now. This is a question I've been pondering lately. Does our identity or personality ever fundamentally change? Are we the same unaltered base for our whole lives? If I was a better existentialist, I'd understand that I choose to be the way I am. Personality is merely a construct to give existence an essence. I fuckin' love SLE. Anyways, sometimes I think the personality I have now is the personality I'll always have. Which isn't such a bad thing, he's really not such a bad guy... a little annoying sometimes. I'm tempted to give you advice to always allow yourself to be a little annoying sometimes. But that seems a little tacky. The future self is a lot like "the other." We examine ourselves through the eyes of our future self. Just something to think about. I'm sorry if this email is too vague, without any interesting tidbits about the daily facts of my life now that you will have probably forgotten at this point. There's just too much to record and retell. Maybe I could give you some key phrases to help you jog your memory: it's not the milk you seek it's the sun you need Buddha's hand citron the 315 soundtrack waiting for the CalTrain with Susie at Milbrae, we ate naan Coming up in the floor in a dark room in building 60. A janitor is outside. g(love) flove thinking the world do you want to know how I know that I love noseless kissing the white plastic ring on the door and teasing Susie inside 204 growing a manorah not liking Charlie's music Full Moon at the Mausoleum I going to make it through this year if it kills me Some of these may be obscure. I apologize. Memory is obscure. Words don't do justice. The truth is I'm feeling exhausted. Thinking about the past and the future at the same time is a little trying. The most important this is that I am well. I look hopefully to the things you might be doing soon. May this long, rambling letter find you well. Your Friend, Past Self