A letter from May 19th, 2016

To the only one it may concern, Howdy. How’s life? I feel as though I am finally finding how to contact some distant child of mine. So much would’ve changed, yet I am not to know it yet. Hopefully, you’re not too different than my current self. I’ve amassed a wit that, at the very least, impresses myself. I am only now starting to settle down to a personality and view that I could be happy with. Who knows? Maybe my mind will take a wander once more, embrace its nomadic side to find something new. This is life; ever-changing and developing. With this, maybe my fear of change and the unknown will fade. So, then, hopefully, you have actually changed a bit. The lack of drive I have now must change; that much is certain, else you wouldn’t be able to read this. Hopefully, you can melt this icy grip lethargicism has on me and flourish into something others would find respectable. WIth this must come a sense of…. Charisma, yes? As of now, I’m still waiting for that. An able life means better coordination around your own species. Such thoughts pervade my mind but never seem to stick - wind, oblivious and unaffecting, like the form life has taken around me. I imagine that my thoughts and emotions will pack into something less superficial later on. I hope; hopefully, you do not then. What have you found passion in? I wish I could reach you, buy you a drink, talk this all out. Who knows what kind of profession you’ll stick to? Happiness is key; father and stepfather spent too long of their lives unhappy, even in green-lined clothes. Make as much as you have to, then sacrifice profit for something that can get you out of bed every day. The inflation of education’s a *****, ain’t it? So many things in this country will **** at you until you bleed gold for them. Trickle blood, but do not let the flow go until you’re dry. In the end, accolades can only gauze the wounds so much; soon, the crimson will show and beg to fall again; strength in body and mind will only fix this, stifle the pain and keep you going. How are the kids? Wifey? Nonexistent? Let’s hope that you hold some amount of my own conscious left. Single, healthily served with a more probable chance of being able to pursue whatever you wish. Friends can be made, desires met, without any bond so binding as marriage. Let’s also hope you remember your education; this world does not need your offspring. The world needs a smaller population full of white people unafraid to adopt a brown baby. If your love finds its way to children, that is your outlet. Let’s follow this trail down into the woods; where would raise such a child? In the same vein as your own upbringing? Disheveled, confused? European? The latter has chances to be good, but I’d suggest some quiet property in the barren plains around Texas. I’d also not suggest taking most advice from your immature self, but hey. There is so much more I want to discuss, I could discuss, I should discuss. So many different tabs on folders swelled to their confines, full of experiences to verify, to learn from. The desensitivity to ***** should dissipate; the family members you actually want to stay in contact would probably make themselves clearer than others. Hell, in the end, who am I to even try? I am not here speaking to a child; said child is me and I am merely looking to the clouds and praising what they hide. Good luck, mate. Experience the world to the fullest. Send me a postcard. Sincerely, Joey Huddleston