A letter to the younger me.
Do you remember how destructive you were?
Do you remember the first high you got from nicotine and caffeine? It was inside a McDonalds, at a corner. The few seconds of buzz made you doubt reality. You were gripping the edge of the table, trying to return to “reality” but it took some time. The seconds felt like minutes. You even wondered if you would be dying.
Do you remember the first time you broke the law? You were driving without license at a national highway and to top it off, you were still underage. Your parents, grandparents did not know that you did that. You almost got run over by a SUV but thankfully it was an almost.
Do you remember the firstsof all thpse disobediences? Its such a long list that the me from 2014 can no longer ennumerate.
However as I stand at this point in my life, destruction has been a companion. As well as death. The cold hands of the foreboding existence always caressing my cheeks or trying to wrangle air out of me through my neck.
In this dark path that I walk into, I embrace this me but sometimes I am afraid of this me.
To the younger me, in Freud’s words, the child is the father of man. The younger me who is stuck in the timeof my adolescence, I wonder if this how you wanted the young adult you to be.